My Grandparents

The picture up there announcing this blog was taken in my Uncle Ed’s backyard right before my grandfather passed away in 2006.  I dug up a poem and a blog I wrote after he died and they inspired me to repost them both here, and to also write a poem for my Grandmother, Lotte Merin.

Gramma-

It’s not that I wouldn’t
have written
for you,
as well a
poem-

the pen stroke
was meant to be
quieter
than the words
that appeared      in my heart
andnomorewouldfit
on paper

After all,
paper is
incendiary
and love has never been able to

e  x  p  l  o  d  e

My Grampa’s On Morphine

“The timer went off in the back of my mind
-and mine
is a terrible thing to waste,”
II.
Every moment
every breath
stale and stagnant as a nest
of bees left abandoned in  an oak
whithering and falling and bent
III.
When the garbage truck drives the wrong way
down a one way, then back,
again I can only laugh and wish I
told you sooner
about the time I was lost
and found first the hostel,
then the pay phone,
then the steps of the B’hai church temple.
I was really going
in the right direction,
wasn’t I?
IV.
“And How I Wish the Wind
(or the world)
would stop
right
now.
V.
Or the birds – I come here
for them
then wish they would leave
-so I can hear the rest
of the city,
VI.
I guess only nine year olds
wait for presents
and get excited
while their bones are aching.
VII.  Expanding and collapsing
his lungs – like the universe -took oxygen and when
it was over,
he smiled
I hope

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