Grandmother hated snakes.
No,
she loathed them.
Bad memories from the farm
I guess.
Grandfather
No,
I can’t say he liked snakes.
I never heard him say,
but he like a good game.
Grandmother
left the pet store
stark white and screaming.
One arm raised and flailing,
the other clutching her purse,
like someone had tried to steal it.
She ducked imaginary objects
and begged Grandfather
"Unlock the car, Chet."
Grandfather
did not comply,
he couldn’t.
Grandfather
sat down on the curb
slapping the concrete with one hand,
and laughed,
sides clutched,
til his top row of teeth dropped down.
