Man in Nursing Home
One morning man in nursing home
walks out of room with robe open, genitals hanging out.
Lady next door shouts Oh my goodness!
Then slams her door.
Man lifts genitals and says They Dead.
Then walks onto elevator,
janitor there gasps
and man says They dead.
Man walks into lobby into choral huffs and sighs.
Nurse yells Mr. Tom why you have your
private parts all hanging out?
Man grabs them and says They dead.
I understand that,
but why do you have them out?
Man replies They dead and today’s the viewing.
Grandma had Hulk hands;
she knew how to slam a car door,
how to high-speed swerve around a curve
as if she was fleeing from hell like the
gatekeepers on Judgement Day
misdirected her. Ooooooooh boy,
shut the door—when the passenger side
would fly open. A sunny day in an ancient
white Oldsmobile can easily become
an intense scene from a horror film.
Grandma, why don’t you get the door fix—
something may happen?
It is fixed boy, you just don’t
shut it all the way. We leave the gas station,
Grandma slams on the brakes at the red light,
makes the sharpest left turn as if we were
skidding on the Earth’s axis.
The door flies.
A prostitute jumps in it.