If you ever want to remember your grandmother, then go eat a green onion.
Not the wild ones out in the grass –
I used to eat those and
I gave myself a stomach ache every time.
If you want to remember me,
just give yourself a stomach ache.
But if you want to remember your great-grandmother,
get the iron skillet out from under the sink,
reseason it with sticky oil,
fry a few pieces of chicken.
Make sure you cook them fully,
until the bones are soft —
until everything is as soft
and tender as a grandmother's
embrace.
