The Late Mrs. Clarence Jackson, Sr. Speaks to Her Grandson in a Dream on a Ferry from Dover to Calais

Vandal Poem of the Day: September 9, 2021

 by Rodney Terich Leonard

The mannish way
my son phoned you
quiet legs crossed
funk in his drawers
six o’clock news on
pulls up my onions.

Each time I spit & cuss
each pour of Clorox
each Meals-on-Wheels
each quip of my name
—Willow Mae—
is hallowed gossip.

Weeks I smelled glory:
ham hocks & souse
honey buns & fatback
chitlins & hushpuppies
Pepsi & fried chops—
loves I lost my legs to.
from Sweetgum & LightningFind more by Rodney Terich Leonard at the library
Copyright © 2021 Rodney Terich Leonard

Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Four Way Books.

Published in Poems Rodney Terich Leonard

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