.................................
garlicky spaghetti
.................................

i was walking down the street with my mother
- let's call her blanche -
and we both noticed that a car was honking
"everyone thinks cars are honking at them" i said,
because everyone really does and everyone always looks up
neither of us had, though, this time
"i don't" she answered and explained it was because
she grew up in a rough neighbourhood and
when she was 11 and 12 the men would honk and she felt
horrible and awful and shy and ashamed
because they thought it was funny to see her squirm.

and the woman across the street waved at the car
but i know
the car was honking at me.

 
.................................
i dreamed of my grandfather
.................................

he was so old
it make my stomach knot
i screamed and wailed
and bleated to stay in the waiting room
for my daddy to finish
but i had to go and
the table beside his bed
his paper bed
the table beside his bed was glazed with books
soft spined books from years of smiles
soft smiles that pierced his flesh
his apple dumpling baby powder flesh
and he asked me to get one for him
his lips were pink like my fuzzy bunny
he made me read

i didn't want to be there

such relief
to look at the words instead of at him
and the tough words twisted around my baby tongue
and my baby teeth and...
and i read and read
and he smiled and leaned back
and he smiled and rocked his chair
and his feet within the paper slippers were tapping
and his dandelion seed hair sat in limp curls
and his fine white lashes sprinkled his cheeks

and i was barely on the fourth chapter
barely through at all
when his soft snore stopped my reading
and i looked at him and smiled at him
because he was suddenly small
you forget that once he was small like me
and i read the book to the finish

 
.................................
girlish infatuation
.................................

lust.

sleepovers can make anyone feel so overtly sexual
even on an air mattress on someone's floor
and she asked me, if the world would end in 3 days
what would i do?

a bit of acid, i answered
and clenched my jaw
and tried to get to sleep.

.................................
ann foster
.................................

 
Copyright © ann foster
September 1996

...five poems in this room by Jennifer Merri Parker...
the coffee you poured on my words
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