A Note from Grendel’s Mother – Georgia Park

1d4cd4109803c5a1046387705ef69503--the-sword-grendels-mother

i am ready for you to kick me out
im itching to hit the road
ill take my buddhist prayer beads
and my rawhide bones
ill take my stuffed animal carcasses
my dog who shits on the carpet
ill take all the men who visited
except one of them

because i just cant. i cant. i cant.
i cant do this

ill drink up all your liquor
ill wake up howling
my buddhist prayer beads
are made of animal skeletons
i think
though i was told
the bones are genuine human

i just cant do this.

i want my cave littered
i’ll keep the dead
we have a healthy relationship
i cant be trusted with the living
my own son and i
dont even speak the same language

i don’t much like talking.
and i cant.

i cant do this.
i cant do this. i cant do this again.

[Georgia Park is a brilliant poet, who possesses something very special. She was instrumental in the evolution of SD. We are honored to publish her work.]

Author: Sudden Denouement

A Literary Collective

5 thoughts on “A Note from Grendel’s Mother – Georgia Park”

  1. Really great piece. It’s something that really digs into those depths of belonging somewhere you don’t belong. A place called home with your pieces scattered around almost as if they’re out of place. Maybe I’m putting myself into this too much, but that’s just where it hit me.

    Like

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