BY: Chavisa Woods


Of course
children must be saved
The starry eyes perpetually shot to heaven
Oceans gleaming behind the ear
Earth churning beneath fingernails
Everything to learn
Of course

Everyone compares America to a child
But what if
America is the grandfather
recently remarried
upgraded
from his dreary quilt stitching first wife
to a blousy young 2nd,
Debauching
gargantuan mountains
smooth plains
moist valleys

What if he still beats his dog when no one is looking
Too fragile to get out of the chair
rocking in the middle of a dim room
dusty books
lining expensive shelves
Murmuring about murderous conspiracies
sons and daughters plotting against him
“Gotta keep the money safe.”
“Can’t trust any body these days.”

The mean one,
The one you call
or go see
twice a year
even though
he threatened to cut off your ear
when you were eight
out of fear
respect
or need

What if America is your grandfather
writhing on the bed
wrecked with Alzheimer’s
coughing up bile
cursing his brother’s mispronounced name

What then
do you do
with the plug?