*Full Title: The Last Words of My English Grandmother

There were some dirty plates

and a glass of milk

beside her on a small table

near the rank, disheveled bed—

Wrinkled and nearly blind

she lay and snored

rousing with anger in her tones

to cry for food,

Gimme something to eat—

They’re starving me—

I’m all right—I won’t go

to the hospital. No, no, no

Give me something to eat!

Let me take you

to the hospital, I said

and after you are well

you can do as you please.

She smiled, Yes

you do what you please first

then I can do what I please—

Oh, oh, oh! she cried

as the ambulance men lifted

her to the stretcher—

Is this what you call

making me comfortable?

By now her mind was clear—

Oh you think you’re smart

you young people,

she said, but I’ll tell you

you don’t know anything.

Then we started.

On the way

We passed a long row

of elms. She looked at them

awhile out of

the ambulance window and said,

What are all those

fuzzy-looking things out there?

Trees? Well, I’m tired

of them and rolled her head away.