She walked around a lot in her dressing gown.
When she got cancer she couldn't say it, the word itself.
Above the doorway was a thing in a frame: close up
it was a large white blob, a black oblong, some triangles
when you moved away, it was a pretty lady
hair done up in a bun.
There is a way to draw a pretty lady, Nanna said
a way to join the eyebrows to the nose, the angle the profile
should be.
You don't need to be looking at it to draw it, Poppa said.

We spent time talking about Hell
a volcano, a bright blue crater lake
eight hundred degrees -
cook the meat off your bones.
We played Scrabble, the Adjective Game
we used God's proper name
we ate dark silverbeet, and my Poppa said
Hail Mary full of grass
Holy Mary full of grass
the Lord is with Thee.