Three Poems

by Holly Day

"Reunion" -- "Dolly" -- "Nancy"


Grandpa wheezes when he talks,
when he walks
but everyone tells him
he looks great, he hasn't aged a bit.
Maybe it's my memory that's
fucked up.

You get used to the idea
that your organs are fixed in place
inside your body,
and you'll never have t o worry
about them breaking down
or coming out. My doctor says
that people
"are just big machines with recyclable parts"
and slips a donor card in with my

Grandpa still has all his parts
with a couple of dents in the important ones
but he's tough.
He just needs new jokes.

I wonder if it would really matter
if I could prolong some old guy's life
saved his story for yet another audience
or should the old give way to the new
like in the old Wild Kingdom movies--
the vultures in the white lab coats are building a
in my living room, squinting at me
through their diseased eyes

They won't get me.
I ripped up my donor card on the night Grandpa


come on, now, little girl
you can't really be cool until you've been
victimized, sodomized--don't you wanna be
a star?

come on, now, honey
you'll thank me for giving you a reason
for truancy, bad grades, teenage pregnancy
maybe even a little preteen touchy-feely of
your own.
I've got your excuse right here.
Come on over and
sit on my lap.


One two many bottles and the lights were too dim
and we needed at least one more candle to fake sobriety
you cried in my lap and you didn't even know me
you told me your dreams
and I didn't even care.

Your words open new wounds in my head each night
it was idiotic to play along
but I did
knowing too well you'd forget me by sunrise
while alcohol keeps forcing me to remember
my pretty
stupid child

I won't even pretend I was looking for anything
special, just a warm body I could pretend was mine
even for one night--I meant everything I said to you
except that I liked you hair better when it was blond

you don't even remember the last time. I'll
never forget.

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