Shahé Mankerian: Mother Gives Dementia a New Name
The television bleats like a kumquat sheep.
The Ojibwa postman knocks on the door
when she washes the feet of the dining table.
Lucullus must be her lover; she sees him
sitting in the coffee residue. We don’t let her
kiss the demitasse. In the backyard,
the apricot tree hangs her Komitas;
her chemise hangs from the terracotta chimney;
she hangs Armenian poems on the clothesline.
When the telephone doesn’t ring, she speaks to it:
The cat likes to sleep in the refrigerator.
She calls all her sons, Rostom, and offers
the cleaning lady lozenge because she coughs
like someone’s daughter.
No comments:
Post a Comment