1.
My mother’s father interrogates a wall for being
in his way. Same same. Nothing here to see.
Carry on. After he hit 55, he started acting
5. Once, when he walked me to kindergarten,
we spent the whole day in a playground instead.
Laughing! Mother, red eyes, pale skin,
2 policemen in tow, found us by dusk. Yelling!
Before I mastered the multiplication table,
I mastered looking after him. Don’t cross
the street! Eat with spoon! Use the toilet!

2.
My father’s father kept to himself, they say.
When he returned from the war, he hid
from the sun, they say. Always ate alone,
they say. He mumbles at closets & walls.
Adds wires to radio antennas. Dials all night.
Finds the in betweens where frequencies talk
over each other. Stares at the television screen
while transmitters are off air. Ears aching
for dots & dashes. Hush. He sees through
the static. Softly. It sees him back. Message.

3.
Older sister runs around the streets, naked.
Villagers chase with blankets. We should bare
our truth, she screams, while trying to undress
them. After decades in the forest, uncle returns
wearing barks & leaves. Nothing here to see.
What you looking at? Father picks a fight
with every neighbor. Yelling! Cousin collects
dead critters in jars. Same same. Carry on.
Neighbors pity us. What a waste, they say.
Porcelain skin outside. Dirty blood inside

4.
Blank! When gray hair took over his head
& body, father’s mind began to deceive him.
Confusion! A rolodex reshuffled for memory.
People! Events! Interchanging! Inseparable!
His body, a clock with 12 hands, all seconds.
Bingo! He’s decoded the lotto. Patterns!
Predicted the dollar exchange. I nod. Correct!
What else can I do but watch him waste away?
He cries when he wakes up alone. Forces mother
to stay in bed all day. Give me love! Love me!

5.
Nothing is wrong with you, my therapist says.
But I feel a screw getting looser & looser.
Gaps widening. Waiting for lightning to take over.
Think! I’m always awake. They say I obsess
over problems I can’t solve. Look! There’s a ghost
moving. Hush! A whisper incoming. Crackle!
A bestowal waiting. Zap! My body is a place
-holder for my wandering soul. I wake. I walk.
I waltz. I waft. I wade. I wage. No waiting.
No quiet. No stopping. Gleam! Crack! Now!

[Editor’s Note: Publication of this poem was made possible by a gift from Katherine Prevost during our annual Kickstarter.]