06.07
Go check on your Gramma
the last words of my Momma
to me
she lived next door
my Gramma
she was 78
or 79 or 100
I am 14 and 4 days.
Momma was 28 and 4 days.
She drank glasses
of bourbon and shots
of well water.
Gramma’s house:
her childhood home
crumbling paint
like goat cheese
dead frogs in the garden
The doorknocker is a moose.
Lockless, blindless, airconditionerless
It was always hot.
I expect Gramma
in her underwear
bra and panties
to answer the door.
I didn’t knock today.
I find Gramma’s
only chair brown
cat pissed stained
empty
I call for the cat.
Mr. Pepper. Mr. Pepper.
He is dead
in the sink
in the rust stained sink
in the blood stained rust stained sink
Strange, I thought.
Odd, I thought.
Hmm, I thought.
I should tell Momma.
The yard back home
hurts my bare feet
like nails and Barbie dolls
like cats and knives
The sun hurts my ears.
When I walk in
the tv is
LOUD
on Lifetime
a cop slaps an anorexic
gramma is standing above
passedoutMomma
bourbon glass in one hand
water shot in the other
still still
Gramma is holding her cane
pressed to Momma’s groin
with a knife taped to the end
with a knife taped to the end.