andy
andy says
he’s seventy-seven years old
but we all know
that he’s at least a decade older than that
when he comes in the library
he does his roll call
oh, judy is here
and i see andrea too
and there’s geri
oh, and there’s mark
if andy doesn’t see a staff member
he’ll hound you about where they’re at
until you divulge their deepest secrets
andy loves old movies
anything with edward g. robinson in it
he asks the younger staff
if they remember edward g. robinson
and then looks confused when the don’t
the younger ones here don’t like andy
he’s too friendly they say
he probably votes republican
and still eats red meat
they don’t understand why
andy won’t just shut up and sit in a corner
and wait to die
andy always
wants a phone number
for a company out of state
that doesn’t have a 1-800 number
he asks me
if i can look up pipes for him online
and together we stare longingly
at the smooths and the rustics
comparing their length
andy is the only
real reference work
that i get these days
everyone else here just watches tv on their phones
he likes it that i still know
whom edward g. robinson is
sometimes andy lets me
smell his big pouch of pipe tobacco
cherry and vanilla
it’s beautifully scented enough
to make me want to take up smoking again
when he leaves
andy always says
he’s going to the CVS pharmacy next
to see earl and sandy
and everyone working over there
he asks me if i need anything
and i always says no, andy,
i have everything i need right here
which is a lie
andy nods and smiles
like he believes me
he says
well, okay
then i guess i’ll see you all tomorrow
and andy
nods and smiles again
like he believes that too.
John Grochalski is the author of five poetry collections, three novels, and the novella Wolves of Berlin Play Amateur Night at the Flute and Fiddle Pub (Alien Buddha Press 2024). He currently lives in Brooklyn, New York.
