nan cursed grandad for leaving on a trip to heaven
without her. he fought tooth n' nail 
against leukaemia & prostrate cancer. 
—nan survived grandad & couldn't cope with it.  
wen I ger'up there I'm gunna throttle him into next week.
I always found it funny how nan 
assumed the calendar in heaven mimics earth's. 
there is time for dementia to unburden us all of time.

grandad wud a'bin… a dark shifting jelly   a fragmentary curvature of matter 
—that is   if the corrupted crow hadn't spooned nan's life out with its flashing beak
before neurofibrillary tangles brought opacity. 

like coverin' yer ears with conch shells that regurgitate white noise.
the intolerable burden of the body. how cruel to know so little 
about the matter we spark inside. the mind deforms like wet bread. 

flakey shortcrust pastry. wet dough. 
a cloud of flour. the patter of desiccated stuffs in cake tins. 
bacon and fried eggs rattle in a pan for brekkie. 
a heaped tbsp of bicarbonate of soda in the carrots & greens
which made our bellies bloat & scuppered us into sunday-comas. 

these are things her mind enabled her to. 

Posted by:DPM

DPM is an idea-logue (sic) and object-oriented speculative realist, attempting to be response-able in an irresponse-able society.

Discuss Below

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.