The Queen of Texas
When my maternal grandmother was still relevant
she fried porkchops.
She fried chicken.
She fried okra.
She fried bacon.
She fried sausage.
She dunked cookies in coffee.
She burned trash in a barrel.
She answered phones.
She tickled backs.
She told stories.
She sang songs.
She broke fevers with cold wash rags.
She hid Easter eggs.
She decorated Christmas trees.
She filled Christmas stockings.
She ordered expensive birthday cakes.
She sat at her vanity and spritzed Estee Lauder.
She dressed my grandfather who was seventeen when she married him.
She rolled dice.
She scratched cards.
She visited her son in prison.
She wrote letters and always included money.
She’s ancient now and has forgotten so much
and is so often forgotten
but I will always see her as the little girl
smiling in pigtail braids in the black and white photo
holding a bag of cotton
in the East Texas sun.
“The Queen of Texas” is included in Misti’s book of poetry Super Cherry Extra, available now at https://www.amazon.com/Super-Cherry-Extra-Misti-Rainwater-Lites/dp/1257867202
Misti Rainwater-Lites shuffles tarot cards to keep the lights on and scribbles lines and makes sick beats to maintain a semblance of sanity while melting from triple digit heat and menopause in San Antonio, Texas. She does it all for the nookie so you can take that cookie and shove it up your ass.
