starting with my Grandma
her defeated demeanor
a deteriorating depression
synched with seven years shiva and
no one is listening close enough
or strongly enough to pull up or out.
my lap is the perfect child of a nuclear family
bustling with love thick enough to stew
and strong enough to take another
wonderful enough to make me wish I was
already redoing my bathroom,
making aprons for the nanny.
I can see Texas now
it lays before me like a sock hop
a motorcycle into a small village at two am
like ten sundresses and a bike basket
it calls to me now like a savior
rebirth in the heat of summer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem