You. Here are some short, short poems I wrote about my grandmothers. None of them have names. I'll just say the date that I wrote them. 1110 2020 she was too relaxed in her three piece turquoise polyester suit and with one open can of beer hidden behind the bread to be a good matriarch, and she put ketchup on everything except angel food cake with that pink frosting I can tilt still taste on her wooden mixing spoon