grandmother strolls the whitewashed halls 

pushing the trolley sloshing with detergent 

dragging the vacuum head along the carpet 

the coins left behind by strange foreigners 

their laughter echoing away in the hall as she began 

to pull taut the bedsheet, furrows clenching- 

a pound, a euro, several hundred yen 

she will give to her daughter 

the daughter she did not want, the daughter she did not expect 

the daughter she probably didn’t love 

yet, she brings them back home, another day’s pocket money 

brought to the familiar uncle, changed for  

the sing dollar, spent away the very next day 

grandmother’s scavenging pushed her daughter 

onto the stage with the shining lights, oh how 

immense her pride was when her daughter, certificate in hand, 

moved the gold tassel from right to left 

as grandmother’s looming hand pushed her into the sterile hallway, 

commanding the mystic forces of life and death in exchange for  

the coins she traded away so long ago. 

it seems, however, 

grandmother’s pushed with too much force, 

toppling her daughter over the concrete ledge, away and onto 

the asphalt, sinking into the depths of death she once commanded, 

her coins spilling out from grandmother’s wallet across the sidewalk 

as vulturous passers-by dive upon the glint of metal in the sun, she 

shouted her only cry, 

since when have you ever loved me for me?