Poetry 2017

Poem in Which Grandmother is Half-Naked

By: Daniel Grigg


Oysters & zinc.

The tongue lies in the mouth like a fish

unable to breathe.

Beef stroganoff, imperial gin martinis,

—rather, a bowlful of olives.


Bowl of nails

& muscular thighs

kicking up. Poor guy shouts.

A doctor’s reflex test,


but mostly this: I made an innocent man

Jesus & then killed him,


biting his tongue like an oyster

& slurping the iron finish.


She looked like a big little kid

when she opened the door in a long shirt

but no pants, & my mother went to cover

her small deflated bottom.


I wonder will they name her Pope.


We gals swim the Adriatic

in our shortest suits, praying

for suntan of the soul.


Surfacing from bedroom, NyQuil

& toxic,  thought I heard my roommate

run lines through the door, he’s an actor,  says

he’d kiss a man for a role,


& I dreamed of a guru

popping eyeballs out like bubblewrap.