Saturday, April 3, 2010

Sonnet 41: Grandparents with their souls almost at rest

By Tatiana Suarez-Pico

Grandparents with their souls almost at rest
while their bodies decompose, limbs die while their minds are still alive
"Trombosis," skin cancer, and dementia all put us to the test
We give money and some time cuz we want them to survive.

He shits his pants and her hands resemble stale, curly fries
A nurse needed to clean them up
She will let us believe they're alright even through their cries
Or a Cuban doctor with island medicine that makes her feel agile again, she won't require help to stand up.

Powerless we are to the pass of time
Doesn't matter how hard we try to make 'em right, it will still leave us marred
We see the path, what happens after their prime
A baby blue sky with a sun that's been barred.

We dig deep in our coats for a fistful of dollars that in a third world country will turn into a thousand remedies
Even smiles may come out of an envelope from the bank, but la verdad is that we're stuck in life with these maladies.

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