Thursday, July 20, 2006

Paper Moon ~~ anna hood

Each day she has to navigate
through Alzheimer country.
nothing is safe Jesus Christ
nobody can be trusted
why even those damn raping priests
sneaking in at night
knocking her up
stealing her babies
seven so far
although God knows
why they'd ever want them
stinky little bastards.

She sings Harbour Lights
or Sentimental Journey
knows all the words
to Paper Moon
sometimes if she's on a rant
she sings hymns
blames God
blames the nurses
been known to bite
the hand that feeds her
hurls strychnine laced peas
at the wall turns her face
away from potatoes
mashed with arsenic
even the tea isn't safe
Holy Mother of God

Tied in her chair
face falling onto her chest
legs black and blue from kicking
knuckles threatening to break
through the skinny cellophane
skin covering them
pleating her sleeve
hands dusting smoothing
wringing the air
Stormy Weather
pouring from her mouth.

There's a young man comes
familiar looking
she thinks he can be trusted
he brings her raspberries
the wild scent still clinging to them
she whispers from behind her hand,
'You need to speak to someone
I'm pregnant again.'


Blogger jason evans said...

Your poems are so evocative! You build such personality and soul into them.

This account is chilling and so sad. Thank you for the glimmer of restfulness near the end. It was important to balance the darkness with just a ray of good.

10:15 AM  
Blogger Louise said...

I think that this is one of your best poems that I've read Anna, but reading it has completely depleted me. Its the song of millions around the world and may one day be mine or yours.

Fine work!


6:44 AM  
Blogger ShadesWrite said...

My breath is stuck somewhere in my esophagus! This is stunning. I want to show Elise. She just recently wrote a short story with this same kind of theme (only not alzheimers, old age in a nursing home). She will love your work.


4:14 PM  
Blogger Bernita said...

Aching. Superb.

6:58 AM  

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