In the kitchen

When my grandmother
would come visit us,
she would sit
at the kitchen table
with her can of beer
and bitch
as my mother
snapped green beans
in the sink,
saying,
simply,
“uh huh”
at the appropriate times.

It hardy mattered
as my grandmother
would continue giving up the dirt
on all manners of people
my mother had never met
nor cared about in the slightest.

I suppose
it gave them both
something to do,
if only for a little while.

5 Responses to “Thursday’s Poem – In the kitchen”

1. Chad Says:
   December 6th, 2007 at 11:20 am

   I can’t wait for Friday’s poem. WTF?

2. patrick Says:
   December 6th, 2007 at 12:38 pm

   We must be related, your gra’ma is my aunt.

3. bikesgonewild Says:
   December 6th, 2007 at 12:40 pm

   …jonny’s become
   so sensitive of late…
   with poetry
   and a little less hate…

   words flow gently
   at a different rate…
   perhaps because
   of his loving mate…

   a turn for the good
   some would debate…
   w/ no more porn
   to ingratiate…

   but i hope this post
   will never deflate…
   it’s something to
   really appreciate…

   to see it gone…
   to see it skate…
   would bring a tear
   that we would hate…

   so now i go
   it’s getting late…
   a video to watch
   “two girls & a plate”…

   …always loved the rhyming shit…
   …my best, in jest, big jonny…
   …signed:: a newer, more sensitive, bikesgonewild

4. bikepunk Says:
   December 6th, 2007 at 2:02 pm

   ugh.

5. bikesgonewild Says:
   December 6th, 2007 at 6:37 pm

   …so bikepunk, yer sayin’ i shouldn’t sell my bikes n’ become a absinthe besotted poet ???…

   …just guessin’…