there were ashtrays in every room
i just found this...i wrote it at a slam last year
it was always his chair
i can remember barely being able
to see over the armrest of it
when nana's hair had more
brown and black than grey and whire
and her whole face smiled
when we walked in the door
and tata's leathery cheek and lips,
they used to compete
over who got their besitos first
because they said
whoever we greeted
as soon as we walked in the door
was our favourite
and i remember when sue met ron
and she sue used to bring him
to family parties
and to bonnie and papa's house
and he was there on christmas
when we went for breakfast
before coming home to clean
to auntie carol wouldnt yell at us
about the top of the fridge
or the back of the stove
i remember how happy sue was with ron
and i could never comprehend why
i suppose cos he's tall
and i remember the long, narrow, clear snake
slithering
from the bedroom
up the side of the chair
and into his nose
he said he felt like darth vader
when he wore the mast
ans we carefully stepped over the tube
when we crossed the living room
and he got a new chair
it was green and tall and soft
but i still liked the old one better
so much so
that the chair became mine
and i kept it in my room
and slept in it and read in it and wrote in it
and i remember
when my room smelled like paint
and the walls became a colour
that was too light and happy
to be mine
and the chair was next to
the ugly brown couches
two rooms away
because i didnt want to ruin it
with the paint i didnt like
and the mother said
we could get it recovered to match
but i said no
and i compromised with slipcovers,
a temporary but changeable setting
and i remember coming home
from a weekend of being away
and the house was clean
and looked nice
and i went to my room
to look for the chair
that left an imprint on the rug of
four circles and a faded square
but it wasnt there
nestled next to my books
like i wanted
and when i yelled
the mother said simply
and all too rationally
"i moved it"
and i looked in every room
and then shylo caught my eye
too bad she got rid of him too.
he was a great black mass
gnawing on the arm
stuffing pulled from the cushion
which looked like a dark lawn
that needed mowing
and i said fuck you
and was sent to my room
and everytime i dragged my chair
his chair
back into the house
the mother said it smelled
and pushed it back out
and i dont know why her father's chairs
are still inside
but my great grandfaher's chair
is outside
it reminds me of how
she always talks about
my dad's family
how "low class" and unkept they are
and how we used to need to wash
the smoke smell from our clothes
after going to bonnie and papa's
before they quit
and she had breathing trouble
but when grandma let her friends
smoke in the house
and when she was an advocate for smokers rights
that was something righteous
and she deserved to be honored
and i see a lot of similarities
when she talks about how mean
her mother was
and how she favoured the hypersensetive crybaby
like mother like daughter...
except not me
those are my thoughts
xo melanie
it was always his chair
i can remember barely being able
to see over the armrest of it
when nana's hair had more
brown and black than grey and whire
and her whole face smiled
when we walked in the door
and tata's leathery cheek and lips,
they used to compete
over who got their besitos first
because they said
whoever we greeted
as soon as we walked in the door
was our favourite
and i remember when sue met ron
and she sue used to bring him
to family parties
and to bonnie and papa's house
and he was there on christmas
when we went for breakfast
before coming home to clean
to auntie carol wouldnt yell at us
about the top of the fridge
or the back of the stove
i remember how happy sue was with ron
and i could never comprehend why
i suppose cos he's tall
and i remember the long, narrow, clear snake
slithering
from the bedroom
up the side of the chair
and into his nose
he said he felt like darth vader
when he wore the mast
ans we carefully stepped over the tube
when we crossed the living room
and he got a new chair
it was green and tall and soft
but i still liked the old one better
so much so
that the chair became mine
and i kept it in my room
and slept in it and read in it and wrote in it
and i remember
when my room smelled like paint
and the walls became a colour
that was too light and happy
to be mine
and the chair was next to
the ugly brown couches
two rooms away
because i didnt want to ruin it
with the paint i didnt like
and the mother said
we could get it recovered to match
but i said no
and i compromised with slipcovers,
a temporary but changeable setting
and i remember coming home
from a weekend of being away
and the house was clean
and looked nice
and i went to my room
to look for the chair
that left an imprint on the rug of
four circles and a faded square
but it wasnt there
nestled next to my books
like i wanted
and when i yelled
the mother said simply
and all too rationally
"i moved it"
and i looked in every room
and then shylo caught my eye
too bad she got rid of him too.
he was a great black mass
gnawing on the arm
stuffing pulled from the cushion
which looked like a dark lawn
that needed mowing
and i said fuck you
and was sent to my room
and everytime i dragged my chair
his chair
back into the house
the mother said it smelled
and pushed it back out
and i dont know why her father's chairs
are still inside
but my great grandfaher's chair
is outside
it reminds me of how
she always talks about
my dad's family
how "low class" and unkept they are
and how we used to need to wash
the smoke smell from our clothes
after going to bonnie and papa's
before they quit
and she had breathing trouble
but when grandma let her friends
smoke in the house
and when she was an advocate for smokers rights
that was something righteous
and she deserved to be honored
and i see a lot of similarities
when she talks about how mean
her mother was
and how she favoured the hypersensetive crybaby
like mother like daughter...
except not me
those are my thoughts
xo melanie