grandfather

October 7, 2009 12:00AM

patched-cotton grandfather
hovering grey in a corner
mosaic–in a window, in a chair-rocking
mural breathing fierce-bandied
whistling gristle of
smoke of chainsaw trains and
shredded autumn and
FUCK
HIM
with his bite, with his
burrow, with the tunnels and the stark
limbs, those furrows worming,
bitten ghosts edged in
her eyes.

bitten grandfather ghost,
you will not take this autumn.
you will not
smother
in these leaves
you will flame on the edge of summer
a moldering pantomime of sickly seasons,
a seasoned clown locked in a swindled
end.