Grandmother’s Mercury
Grandmothers mercury
Coursed through arteries
Through father's blood and tongues of brothers
Love stood still at border fires
Each one raging with toxic fumes
Fueled by chaos of traumatized eyes
Coal smoke lapping at the face of children
Who breathed in fire as their fathers once did
Toxicity was God's drop of madness
Ill and deranged in their composure
Standing in prayer–longing for relief
Side to side in struggle
Side to side in insanity.
Grandmother's mercury
From fingertips to black tea sips
As poison poured down from humble cups to hungry stomachs
Their heads weighed down through shame
To question the venom was to war with each other
To accept their condition was divine order
Like grandmother's spiked chalice on lips
To develop in malice was their only gift
Like love–the harm was unconditional
From father's breast feeding to grandfather's beatings
They grew up like grape vines, tied to their fixture
Around poles and pipes, beaten through scripture
Rods of fear ripped through their chests
Stakes in the ground left holes in which they rest.
Their leaves were hard, rough and torn
Their stems were firm and supple in turn
But ever so often
When strangers sought impression
Fruits of a broken family tree would offer its blessings
The taste would be savorous, overwhelmingly saccharine
Could bring one tears in its candied fragrance
It invited guests from far and wide
Left smiles, laughs, sobs—goodbyes
But to eat very much was to feel flavours foul
Couple with hate, guilt, shame to devour
From the blood of their father came a taste bittersweet
That taste was the taste of grandmother's mercury.
This article originally appeared in Volume 43, Issue 13, published March 7, 2023.
