Sometimes as a young kid I would find myself having breakfast with my grandma.
Her cereals were strange to me
(where were the Lucky Charms, I wondered)
but she made good oatmeal. I remember her usual pretty well.
Hard-boiled eggs. Grapefruit. Tea.
And the vitamins,
all different shapes and sizes
like HST's galaxy of pills in Vegas.
One was large and amber-coloured and looked like the end of the old guy's cane from Jurassic Park.
The radio would always be on AM
and classical music, incomprehensible and remote to me
would dance pleasantly on the ceiling of the kitchen.
It never seemed to be coming from any one place; it was as if
Tchaikovsky was the sound steeping tea makes.
My house was not a loud or exciting one but hers was so much more peaceful
by comparison, like everyone else in the neighbourhood was
For snack, my sister and I would have apples, or cheese and crackers.
We had that at home.
Sometimes we had celery with peanut butter,
which was a delicacy because of mom's allergies.
We had to make sure to wash our hands and brush our teeth carefully
after celery and peanut butter.
Today for breakfast I had
two hard-boiled eggs,
a piece of toast,
a bowl of grapefruit,
and my usual tea.
I listened to Debussy and I left the Lucky Charms in the cupboard.
And celery and peanut butter is really good when you're stoned.