When I was a child, my grandmother Rachel lived in a small room next to mine.
She wore what were called “housecoats” and put her hair up in “pin curls.”
She raised roses.
She enjoyed watching pro wrestlers on television. Her favorite was Gorgeous George.
And she loved the piano player Liberace.
I remember the rhinestones on his cape.
She spoke very little.
I assumed Rachel
must be typical of something.
2
Listen, the god who made you
cannot know
anything about you.
It can’t become distracted.
It has to keep producing
orchids with monkey faces,
caterpillars with pink feathers,
and the one who floats
on her own reflection.
Rae Armantrout’s recent book Finalists was a Library Journal best poetry book of the year.
Source: theatlantic.com
