For my grandmother
Lights, lights, lights
all she sees is lights
on the movie screen and
next to her I sat
so young and watched
things she never liked
the lights, lights, lights
of her computer where
my small fingers made
2D masterpieces on Paint Y
of lights, lights, lights
in Sears reflecting off
the cheap emerald stone
she bought for my sweet 16th
and the lights, lights, lights
irritated her eyes
that ached and couldn’t
drive to my farewell party
which I didn’t invite
her to anyway because
I forgot like how she now
forgets my name and under the
lights, lights, lights
of the hospital room dad sobs
because he didn’t love his
mother soon enough
and he can’t see her
through tears like she
can’t see him through the
lights, lights, lights
of my cellphone when she
called the Christmas before it
happened but I was too busy with
nothing and couldn’t answer,
I was distracted with the
lights, lights, lights of the
decorated tree that symbolized the
charity I left in the sugar-free
maple syrup she poured on
my pancakes and she
asked me if I wanted more
and cleaned my sticky lips.
Now her lips are wet
with drool, her eyes are
dull and dark, staring above her,
and all she can say is
“Lights, lights, lights…”





