{"id":12660,"date":"2019-06-15T08:31:36","date_gmt":"2019-06-15T06:31:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12660"},"modified":"2019-06-15T08:31:36","modified_gmt":"2019-06-15T06:31:36","slug":"poems-by-mitchell-grabois-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=12660","title":{"rendered":"poems by Mitchell Grabois"},"content":{"rendered":"

Trog<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

1.<\/p>\n

I was poisoned in 2009<\/p>\n

I cannot be poisoned again<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Poison comes in many forms<\/p>\n

Some of it is white powder<\/p>\n

Some of it blows in the wind<\/p>\n

Some is traceable, some not<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I was poisoned in 2009<\/p>\n

I cannot be poisoned again<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

2.<\/p>\n

On the face of a mountain in Provence<\/p>\n

is a defunct troglodyte village<\/p>\n

My aunt was the last inhabitant<\/p>\n

She died in 1948<\/p>\n

Meth heads now shit<\/p>\n

in the caves that were their homes<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I stand on top of the troglodyte mountain<\/p>\n

look out at a nuclear plant<\/p>\n

fall to my knees and worship the cooling towers<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I have returned to my roots<\/p>\n

to my rightful inheritance<\/p>\n

I descend the steep path<\/p>\n

to the trog village<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I sweep out my aunt\u2019s<\/p>\n

cave with a straw broom<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

3.<\/p>\n

As a child I sat inside<\/p>\n

my aunt\u2019s troglodyte home<\/p>\n

eating rock candy she made with a string<\/p>\n

and sugar solution<\/p>\n

Candlelight flickered on her face<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I was in love with a girl<\/p>\n

who lived three caves away<\/p>\n

Her father closely guarded the pig<\/p>\n

he kept in a shelter just outside<\/p>\n

The girl was quite a bit older than me<\/p>\n

already a teenager<\/p>\n

She showed me her breasts<\/p>\n

They were white and cool<\/p>\n

Everywhere else her skin was rough and dirty<\/p>\n

Shack<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When I was nine I wrote a three-page treatise:<\/p>\n

Why I Am an Atheist<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At fourteen I decided my fate:<\/p>\n

to be a hermit in the desert<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I built a shack<\/p>\n

and learned to squeeze water from rocks<\/p>\n

My friends were horned toads, lizards and scorpions<\/p>\n

We sat on the floor of my shack<\/p>\n

and talked about the FBI\u2019s definition of dangerousness<\/p>\n

and how it is best predicted<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The scorpion seemed especially knowledgeable about this<\/p>\n

and claimed to be an informant for spies<\/p>\n

from three countries<\/p>\n

though he wouldn\u2019t divulge which ones<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A blue rock-lizard said:<\/p>\n

You\u2019re full of shit, Scorpion,<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0ego and bravado<\/em><\/p>\n

all the stuff our friend Mitchell moved here to avoid<\/p>\n

<\/em><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t care<\/em>, I told my friends<\/p>\n

It might have bothered me at one time <\/em><\/p>\n

but it doesn\u2019t anymore<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mother Abandoned<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After my father abandoned her<\/p>\n

Mother moved back to the country<\/p>\n

to live with her sister<\/p>\n

in the house in which they\u2019d grown up<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My aunt was feeble<\/p>\n

as she\u2019d been in childhood<\/p>\n

but my mother was strong<\/p>\n

from all the farm labor she\u2019d done<\/p>\n

and still resentful of her sister<\/p>\n

whom she considered a malingerer<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mother did some labor for local farmers<\/p>\n

who felt sorry for her<\/p>\n

She put on overalls and pulled on high boots<\/p>\n

Behind her back they called her \u201cMartha the Hired Man\u201d<\/p>\n

She worked harder than any of the men<\/p>\n

though she could be mean to the animals<\/p>\n

if they gave her trouble<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The plaster in the farmhouse was cracked<\/p>\n

and getting worse<\/p>\n

as the house, after a century<\/p>\n

continued to settle<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mother bought adjustable metal poles<\/p>\n

from Ace Hardware<\/p>\n

went into the leaky cellar<\/p>\n

did some wrenching<\/p>\n

propped up the first floor<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

All around her were cans<\/p>\n

with dribs and drabs of paint<\/p>\n

tools rusted on shelves<\/p>\n

old baskets decayed<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mother looked over the baskets<\/p>\n

and remembered the<\/p>\n

Indians who had lived in rough houses<\/p>\n

at the border of the property<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Spiders made homes in canning jars<\/p>\n

The rusty cream separator looked arthritic and thirsty<\/p>\n

like Old Man Creighton down the road<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The cellar clutter depressed her<\/p>\n

She carried the cream separator upstairs<\/p>\n

and flung it into the yard<\/p>\n

She put her arms around the gasoline-powered<\/p>\n

washing machine<\/p>\n

–it must have weighed two hundred pounds–<\/p>\n

carried it up the rickety stairs<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

fired up her dad\u2019s \u201955 Chevy pickup<\/p>\n

and backed it through the yard<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She ran over some day lilies her mother had planted<\/p>\n

to the consternation of her weak sister<\/p>\n

who stood behind the screen door<\/p>\n

a handkerchief held to her mouth<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mother hefted the metal<\/p>\n

into the truck bed<\/p>\n

threw in some pipe<\/p>\n

and a well pump<\/p>\n

and drove to Padnos\u2019s recycling yard<\/p>\n

where she sent it all crashing to the ground<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Smoke drifted around her<\/p>\n

and a front loader shoved around mountains of junk<\/p>\n

Rain was starting to come down<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She took the grubby bills the attendant gave her<\/p>\n

and drove back to the farmhouse<\/p>\n

the truck rattling over every rut<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Elvis<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The female Elvis impersonator gets on the plane<\/p>\n

her body a crate that<\/p>\n

barely fits in the aisle<\/p>\n

By the time she finds her seat<\/p>\n

she\u2019s fuming so hard<\/p>\n

she sympathizes with the<\/p>\n

most recent maniac<\/p>\n

with an automatic weapon<\/p>\n

who opened fire on strangers<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She calms herself with vodka tonics<\/p>\n

Her wife gently strokes her arm<\/p>\n

After the third vodka<\/p>\n

Elvis is muttering:<\/p>\n

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas<\/em><\/p>\n

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Other Elvis impersonators await her on Vegas stages<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She clutches the latest issue of Elvis Impersonator<\/em><\/p>\n

There are a half-dozen acts she wants to see on this trip<\/p>\n

She will sit in her seat<\/p>\n

anonymous to them<\/p>\n

They won\u2019t know she is one of them<\/p>\n

unless she walks up after the show<\/p>\n

and introduces herself<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

but she won\u2019t do it<\/p>\n

She knows what their response will be:<\/p>\n

a bored look<\/p>\n

They don\u2019t have her dedication, her devotion<\/p>\n

To them, it\u2019s become just a job<\/p>\n

They don\u2019t have Elvis in them<\/p>\n

the way she does<\/p>\n

in her blocky, powerful body<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She always feels let down by their shows<\/p>\n

like a compulsive porn viewer<\/p>\n

who never gets off<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She\u2019s been impersonating Elvis since she was a little girl<\/p>\n

long before she understood her lesbianism<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Her wife is tired of seeing Elvis impersonators<\/p>\n

but understands that it is her partner\u2019s passion<\/p>\n

and passion must be respected<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

VFW Hall<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We pushed our cheeks together<\/p>\n

in the darkness of the Hall for the Veterans of Foreign Wars<\/p>\n

Your cheek was always flushed hot<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Earlier that day I\u2019d bought you a turquoise ring<\/p>\n

from the antique trader next door<\/p>\n

We were thirteen<\/p>\n

with absent parents<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After sex in your house<\/p>\n

I smoked one of your father\u2019s old cigars<\/p>\n

Every day you made up a different story<\/p>\n

about what had happened to your father<\/p>\n

your mother<\/p>\n

what had happened to you<\/p>\n

to me<\/p>\n

That about covered it<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Family Services were lax in those days<\/p>\n

in that place<\/p>\n

They accepted our stories<\/p>\n

and never bothered us again<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I was a thief<\/p>\n

I stole enough for both of us<\/p>\n

I knew kid stuff would not stick to my record<\/p>\n

I could make a new start later<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

That\u2019s what we both told ourselves<\/p>\n

and later, it sort of worked out<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Trog   1. I was poisoned in 2009 I cannot be poisoned again   Poison comes in many forms Some of it is white powder Some of it blows in the wind Some is traceable, some not<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1381,77],"tags":[1383,1123,1010],"class_list":["post-12660","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-58","category-english","tag-egophobia-58","tag-english","tag-mitchell-grabois"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3ic","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12660","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12660"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12660\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12661,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12660\/revisions\/12661"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12660"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12660"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12660"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}