or, i think i built that wall myself or, my grandmother would never play craps
i ain’t never liked gambling. my grandmother’s last hoorah was at a casino in atlantic city. she could talk then. i remember because she called home in a panicked haze when the jackpot lights were all too much and she forgot the bus that took her there was the same bus that would take her back. my family took a gamble when putting her in a nursing home. she could talk then. i remember because she hated that place and was of course fed up with the incompetence of those in power. she saw the country take a gamble on its first black president. the best eight years of my life. the last eight years of hers. she was mute for years before the end. i remember because she never wished me a happy 21st. or maybe she did, but i wasn’t close enough to hear it. i guess i forgot how to listen. i forgot how to talk to someone who couldn’t talk back. months before she died this country took a gamble on red. she couldn’t talk no more. i hadn’t been listening anyway. but i bet she had a few choice words for what’d make this country great. for the first time. he been ruining this country for 457 days. she been gone for 251 days. i been going double or nothing with my sanity at stake. like going broke gon’ fix anything. i was gon’ write this to her but i keep telling myself she’ll never hear it. i think i built that wall myself.