he didn’t know
he didn’t know
i guess he didn’t know
we were finishing beers
and we looked over
at my thin grandmother
dressed in a wig
because the chemo made
her lose her hair and weight
and we looked over at her crying,
talking to his mother
holding her elbow
because the cancer had
metastasized into her bones
and he probably didn’t know
but he looked at me and said
”looks like grandma is
already hitting the sauce.”
and i don’t think he knew
even though it was already july
and my grandmother would
be dead by november of that year
even though i talked about it a lot
even though my mother
sometimes cried to his mother
on the phone.
but he probably didn’t know
an anyway i guess the cancer
and the wig, the thin frame
made my grandmother look drunk
so i said “yeah, looks like it,”
then i got up to go into
the house
to get us a couple more beers.
i wasn’t mad
i just figured
he didn’t know.
and it was okay, i thought.
we all had too much
of our own shit to put up with
in this life
to keep kind tabs
on everyone else’s problems.
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