Grandma taught me to keep a kicker ace,
that post position trumped track condition,
and against all odds, to hit at seventeen.
She taught me to be leery
of one-eyed jacks, the queen of spades,
and politicians who found religion.
She told me often, and in crowds,
“that there moral majority
should mind its own damn business.”
Grandma taught me to laugh out loud.
She liked to watch Fox News
and rail about the morons
in America. She’d howl with joy
when Bill O’Reilly “came on to prance.”
She told me once that Palin had more balls than brains,
and could make her fortune dealing Faro in Las Vegas.
Grandma taught me I was lucky, so I am.
For thirty years
she shared a space with Mom
and Dad too small for three.
She never missed a chance to glare at Dad.
Grandma taught me
love is but a sprinter—lean
and easy from the gate,
but hate is built for distance–
surefooted, she will run,
and run, and run.