Jena Crowe


Beef N Cheddars With A Demented Old Fart


My grampy is 90 years old. I call him grumpy
because he likes to cuss at his dog, telling that mutt
to go to hell when she doesn't eat all her kibbles n bits-
'Eat it or go to hell! ' he yells.
he yells at his mail
and even the mailman
when he doesn't bring grampy a check for death.
The old man wants to DIE.

We pat his back and tie his shoes
and feed him corn niblets from a can, just the way he likes it.
He has 9 cartons of eggs in his fridge
and it pisses him off that there are no eggs.

'Grampy, your breakast expired a month ago'
I say.
'Damn chickens! ' he swears while holding a knife
up to a medical bill.
He eats like a horse and weighs as much as a toddler.
We watch him toddle around the kitchen
griping at the bowl of fruit my mother puts there
every weekend... in hopes he might try something rich in vitamin C.

'See see see this pimple on my belly? ' he begins to sing
in Arbys- where my dear sweet mother took him out to lunch.
People scurry like cockroaches that just noticed a bright light.

'See see see the pimple? ' he hollers again, unbuttoning his shirt
to show the young female employee.
She's horrified at the grapefruit sized hernia
sticking out of his belly. She covers her mouth and says
'I'm going on break'

He continues dancing in Arbys, licking ketchup out of
those little paper cups. They bring him his coffee, splenda
and cream- he hoards the extras in his 1972 cowboy coat
with holes the size of curly fries.

Mom just smiles and changes subjects, wondering how long
it will last.
Dementia mixed with greasy food can really change a man.
He exits every store either cursing at a stranger,
or dancing to the danger in the air. He doesn't care-
and THAT is why I love the old bastard.

Submitted: Saturday, August 02, 2014
Edited: Friday, October 31, 2014

Topic of this poem: memories


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Poet's Notes about The Poem

For Tex. Don't worry you old fart- You're getting there.

Last convo he had with his dog- 'go potty or burn in hell! '

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