Posts for June 14, 2024 (page 8)

he implies my grandfather will be too
      out        of it (crashing
around pain orbit)            for our prayer
      gifts and holy flowers            (blood
red roses) to mean            anything
                   to direct our attention
to my grandmother (turtleneck frizz
my             owl eye             alone
      grandmother) who is having a hard
time          watching him in so much
         pain
                  I imagine you      in the 
death       bed with eyes       screwed shut
           writhing no words
and I imagine                    watching
           and then I imagine living an ocean
apart          for 30 years
          and writing          an email to my grand
children                about your glimmering
                black car (you leaning
against it                                        gorgeous)
                 and I imagine your years
and mine                                              being
                   so                               long
and I step      out       of my grandmother’s
body        and      look                         down
         because I am scared to see          her
face

i made sure to clean my glasses before writing you today

can’t be squinting through yesterday’s blindspots

just soap and clear water
no fancy products needed

just open eyes and willingness to see
willingness to wash
willingness

willing
pen meets paper

Of course it’s not going to happen,

sitting on the back stoop
feet on the top step
Grandma’s popping peas
singing to the baby on her knees

she’s kind of tall and slim
carries a glint and a grin
cotton dress out in the sun
she’s thirty one, Grandma

that was oh so summer past
now it’s coal in the scuttle
knee boots and hustle bustle
she still likes to tussle, Grandma

leaning on the door post
sun and summer’s come round again
and this winter she sees she’ll be
singing to a baby on her knees, Grandma

a mother, a daughter, a baby, a grandma
a rocking a singing, a lullaby rhythm
flows through life high up that holler
love is her song, life is her hymn, Grandma

Not her real name confidentiality you know
and she’s not THAT Barbie either.
One of my most memorable patients in rehab,.
her spirit was light and hopeful, bouncing in
with a mischievous grin and challenging me
and my student to bring it on to match her
exuberance. Dx: malignant brain tumor 
Age: 34 . focused on executive functioning,
using games, cooking , money management
social interaction. Barbie had us in stitches.
Betty laughed so loudly we were shushed by
the pediatric therapist. Her humor and Grace
we’re always intact until it wasn’t.
Sadly she lost her battle at age 36.
Barbie, I still speak your name..

A few free-floating bacteria
and a pinch of wild yeast —who
would think that plain-spoken
mixture packs enough punch
to magic a kilo of dough into
shiny crust circling air-pocketed
innards that pillow tangy twilight-
blue orbs? But after all, the best
miracles are the simplest.

Heavy halting steps
nearly overtaking me, 
one text to the next.

I was a necklace of dandelions
grown dusty with the ash of cigarettes 
tripping through the hall on laundry mountains
a milkweed seed in a Mountain Dew can

who is God? I’m not sure, it’s rude to ask
but the threat of hell looms in the doorways
in the fattened mouth of the copperhead
shooting from the bush I walked too close to

when the sun oozes through thick canopy
into our Camaro, we tale the truck
up ahead with its faded vinyl fish
and I peel my cheek off the smudged window

green carpet-burns on my denim knees find
playing animal felt better, human
felt like yellowing trailer walls and
digging for the messiah in the yard

A biennial by the looks of it

and totally new to me. 

Just think, I didn’t have to plant, 

nurture, prune, nor plow. 

I just have to avoid

the everyennial

poison ivy. 

storm clouds march shoulder to shoulder
and stretch for miles without end

I watch the sky and wait for the rain to come
humidity gathers on my skin 

droplets do not fall
the darkness hovers 

bright skies remain hidden
and I long for light