Oh, Grandma

Well

I walk up to the house and the cats scatter

Eight or ten I think

Inside it smells of rot and infestation and piss

She’s got the oven on for heat

And a small radiator that doesn’t put much heat out

I tell her I’ll pay for heat

But she doesn’t listen

She never listens

She feeds the dog human food

And I tell her not to because it’ll kill the dog

Most of her dogs die at about

Eight or ten I think

I tell her they’ll die

But she doesn’t listen

She never listens

She got into a car accident at a young age

And therefore doesn’t drive

She saw the toilet flood once

So she doesn’t flush it

She thinks if she changes the channel

The television will explode

She thinks a furnace clunking

Will blow up the house or make it catch fire

So she uses the oven, which she believes is safer

I tell her she’ll die

But she doesn’t listen

She never listens

She hands me gloves and makes me put them on

She wouldn’t talk to me over the phone about what she has for me

But she says it’s something I need and will like

But it never is

It’s always a pair of shorts from the eighties

Or boots about ten sizes too large

Or ten sizes too small

She shows me a bike she stole from a kid

In an attempt to get mom and the kids around

And then when that failed

She tried to give it to me

The gloves are so we don’t leave fingerprints

And she didn’t tell me what it was on the phone

Because you never know who’s listening, she said

That’s one of her favorite phrases

You never know

I tell her I have a bike

Even though the bike I have is crippled

And encourage her to return it to the house

Where she took it in the dead of night

Probably from some poor kid

She said she rushed and almost fell getting it

I tell her she’s 87 years old and needs to stop doing this shit

But she doesn’t listen

She never listens

I once told her about the time I choked nearly to death

And had to rush to the hospital

Her response is always what she had for breakfast

She just doesn’t fucking listen

I take her out for groceries once or twice a month

And when I tally up her costs for her

She makes me do the math twice

She doesn’t trust me

And she believes that there are foods that didn’t exist

That exist. Like brown bags of cat food that have always been teal

And if I can’t find them, she is discouraged

The Human Society tried to shut her down

Just because she has 23 cats

I mean, Jesus

What were they thinking

I tell her that’s a few too many cats

But she doesn’t listen

She never listens

She tells me that they’re not hers

I ask her if she feeds them. She does

I ask her if they live on her property. They do

She explains they’re all cats that the neighborhood left around

She explains she only feeds them because no one else will

But then

I’ve come upon her house

She keeps the kittens in boxes and feeds them

Until they all slowly die from being overly inbred over forty years

And I help her bury them

So I’m not incredibly sympathetic

She says she’s allowed to keep four cats

So she’s given away 12 of them to three families

They’ll get the licenses with her money

And the cats will stay in her yard

I thought you said they weren’t yours, I ask

But she says they’ll just stay in her yard and she’ll feed them

But they’ll belong to the other people

I sigh

She’s a backseat driver who tells me to take bad routes

And encourages me to take the wrong lines in supermarkets

And says “Oh! Look! A black person!” any time we’re five feet away

Loud enough for them to hear, before admonishing me

To hide my wallet

I shrug, and they walk off, angry

She complains about the speed of service in supermarkets

Even though it takes her three hours to buy four items

We always eat Kentucky Fried Chicken

And she always buys

Because she feels bad if she doesn’t

And because she thinks I come around because she buys me dinner

I keep trying to explain that I love her, she’s family

But she doesn’t listen

She never listens

I eat my two meals

Because she always makes me buy two

She lived through the depression on gruel

And when I’m done she makes a sad face

Because I won’t order a third

And complains

She always stuffs cash in my pocket when she thinks I’m not looking

And I take it to humor her. It makes her feel good

I don’t need it that much, but I see her smile when it’s tucked away

And I always feign surprise

I let her sit when I haul the groceries in

Even though she jumps up and wants to help

I tell her no, and she actually listens

Odd

I make this humorous

But she’s really done a lot to hurt many people and animals in her time

I don’t know how to confront that actually

I’m still obligated to help her

And I’ll miss her when she’s gone

She’s a true character

She bought a pink dress for her male dog

And a can of the most expensive dog food

So that he might move away from human food

Because the doctor just told her

Human food hurts dogs

When doctors tell her things

She overlistens

Like when the doctor told her no coffee

She doesn’t touch it

But she wasn’t supposed to have caffeine

So she drinks hot chocolate instead

And doesn’t listen to me when her symptoms progress

When I say hot chocolate has caffeine

She doesn’t listen

She never listens

When I was a kid she babysat

Smacked and yelled at the baby

Those are the good old days

Her house is filled, top to bottom, with garbage

She pack rats

And manipulates the neighbors against one another

And me

For fun, like I give a damn

Oh, when they shout at her I tell them to fuck off

And when they come back around they give me dirty looks

And tell me what I’m supposed to be doing for my grandma

Because they’ve known her for half a year

And I’ve been carrying her shit for ten

People love other people’s business

She’s afraid of dying alone

And doesn’t like to be home after dark because she believes

She’s afraid, she thinks the dark is when they come for you

She says that Bigfoot might attack at any moment

You never know

She says that she heard there’s a draft coming

You never know

She needs the moss cleaned off her roof

Dad fell and broke his leg doing it

That’s where I draw the line

She wants to build a fence in back so the cats can’t get out

When there’s a two foot fence in the front any kitten could leap

Her logic is flawless and merciless and stone cold impossible

I kiss her on the way out

And her snot sticks in my moustache

I wipe it off tactfully and wave

She tries to stuff two more dollars in my pocket so I run

I tell her not to run around naked

And no hitting on the neighborhood boys

And she tells me not to poke it anywhere she wouldn’t

She’s cute, she’s personable, and she’s a nice old lady

She’s also someone who has done many horrible things

She doesn’t seek to change or improve what she is

It just is

She doesn’t listen

She never listens

So I don’t have to worry about her reading this

I gave her one of my books of poems once

And she calls it a joke book

She thinks it can’t possibly be serious

No one would ever buy it

Well, she’s kind of right there.

But then...

You never know