There are tubes sticking out of his body,
his body cannot process his wasting
anymore and I ask his body if its sick of being
his body,
what would it
be if it were not his
body? His body fires
bile through tubes instead of his mouth,
his mouth a cracked gun barrel that reflects
his body onto my father and his
body is sweat sheened as his mouth
talks to his father and his father is
my grandfather and his body
is bound to the hospital bed as his mouth
says I love you so
quietly that my father does not hear it,
does not hear his father,
his mouth, his body bound
to the hospital bed and his body is
sweat sheened and his white mustache droops
into his mouth and gets stuck into his teeth, yellowed
by cigars and the bile he fired through his mouth at
my father, at me, and instead his mouth says
I love you so quietly
and I only heard
it through my mother,
who told my father,
who never heard it
at all.
grand(father) sheds his grudges
Contributors

Han Raschka is a Pushcart-nominated feminist poet whose work focuses on personal and collective traumas, resilience, and queer existence. They are the second-place poetry winner in the 2024 Wisconsin People & Ideas Writing Contest.
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