Grandmother’s lost it again
Touting the fly-papered lollipops,
Kindling garbage bin fires
With the heads of her childhood dolls
And cick-cuck cackling at 3:00 in the a.m.
She rides her broomstick high into that dark dream-like dawn
And buzzes the lawns of the neighborhood with a face razor and determination.
She ties her hair to her legs so she doesn’t walk too fast
Likes to keep a snail’s pace,
Smell the roses, taste the lively buds of tree-born ticks,
Smick-smacking lips on little lizard’s heads
Twisting her cockeyed glass eye with her index finger
Till it pops out ‘plop’ into her potato bug soup
And spoons it up, rolls it over her tongue.
Her stockings stretched tightly
Over bony legs of viscous flesh
She applies for modeling positions in the dregs of New York City
Calls herself Marilyn and dons a wig of frizzled bacon.
Thick-rimmed slate glasses adorn her crooked nose
Held together only by the gum of yesteryear
Upside down press-on nails painted orange
Luring butterflies and hummingbirds into her web of nonsequiters.
Grandmother has lost it—completely
My only hope being that time-tested genes have met their fate in her
And found their regeneration in me.
Discussion
No comments yet.