Grandma Laughlin, gone forever, listens always
I talk to her out loud, loudly and often
Guardian angel of the trolley lines, spirit of the Chicago Public Library, goddess of suffrage and suffering
“Blanche, I’ll bet you thought we saw the last
of that ass Hitler, but Deutchland Uber Alles is on an endless loop
A rancid record spinning crackling – thunk-kathunk-kathunk
Who’d’a thunk it, Grandma, it’s’ happening again.”
And even though she was too classy to swear
Even though she wouldn’t have said SHIT if she had a mouthful of it
I cuss freely when I speak to her
What’s she gonna do about it, anyway?
“Blanche, that miserable fuckwit will get us all blown to kingdom come
Bastard takes everything FDR stood for and
folds it into paper airplanes
sets it on fire
burns it with a spyglass and
feeds it to the pigeons
(strike that – I don’t believe he would ever feed a creature other than himself)
There is a haze on all our hearts, a deep groan of disgust…”
Blanche’s face is in my mind
In her heyday, an irrepressible Socialist, FDR fangirl, chatterbox, survivor
By the time I knew her, she was weary
Made it through the Great Depression but
bound by the other kind, dull and grey and nothing to say
But she blinks slowly and seems to convey,
“I know, Amer. I wish I could say I lived to see the other side of the nightmare,
but this one is so much worse.”
There is no moral to this poem, no twist, no clever upshot
Just remembering her face, the calm after the storm, ready for the next one
© 2025 Sharp Little Pencil/Amy Barlow Liberatore
For What’s Happening Now, the prompt was Grandma. I had a grandpa, too, but Blanche, my mom’s mother, took the cake. One of my favorite human beings ever. Love you, Grandma Laughlin.
Sharp Little Pencil 
Sherry Marr
I adore this poem, Amy. I had a grandma who was much the same. She worked to get the first Social Credit Party elected in B.C. back in her day. She was larger than life. I so often imagine her face were she to be watching the news I am watching these days. I am thinking it is the very face I am wearing, in disbelief that this can be happening again, and so blatantly, corruptly and illegally, while cowering sycophants sit silently by. Your poem made my day. I feel every word. SO well said! Blanche is as alive in your poem as she ever was on this earth. You have caught her fiery spirit, my friend, and carry on her legacy.
Sharp Little Pencil
Sherry, thanks for this heartfelt response. Blanche was happy to get the vote but mad as hell at the poor farm conservation that resulted in the Dust Bowl. She run the kind of household where “hobos” would always be welcome for a bit of work in exchange for hot food. She never finished high school but was a voracious reader, worker of crosswords.
I am happy that you had that kind of grandma. It’s how women like us have what I all “vinegar in our veins.”
Rall
Well you’re not wrong. Still reeling. Bet Granny is too. Something like this could never happen to a country like America; But it has. Powerful poem. Pray for a miracle to rid yourself of this pestilence that has infected your nation. Crossing fingers and toes….Rall
Sharp Little Pencil
Rall, yes, the pestilence is real. That man and his supporters are kudzu, spreading without limits. My gram would be just rolling in her grave, I know. I lost her when I was about 7, but I learned so much from her, and from the stories my mom relayed to me. I guess it helped me be an old soul from an early age.
We will keep fighting. This Saturday is Pride in the Park in our little town. We will have extra security – not to fight force with force, but to de-escalate with words and as much calm as we can muster. Peace is soooo hard in the face of madness. Thanks. A
susanstoo
Brilliant! I was thinking my own grandmother all the way through, especially at
I laughed! But agree! She was a fighter up until her dying day. I think if she was still alive, what is happening now would kill her–or she’d lead the way with protest signs and letters. Thank you for this poem.
Sharp Little Pencil
Susan, hell, yes! She fought for the vote. She would have come up with the best protest signs. Hee hee, thanks
jaerose37
So good to read your unique and celebratory words again Amy – made me smile as I tumbled through your thoughts – Jae
Sharp Little Pencil
Jae, thanks, my friend. I love the idea of tumbling through thoughts, especially as I have tumble many times through your rabbit hole with Alice.
jaerose37
It is lovely to read your words again Amy – I loved how you brought the memories alive and made us smile as they tumbled out – Jae
Sumana Roy
I could see your grandma through your lines so vividly, Amy. Her great Will to stand tall and the resignation at the end. My sigh bonds with yours in this line, “Grandma Laughlin, gone forever,…”. A beautiful write.
Mary
I really enjoyed reading about your feisty grandma, Amy. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…. I enjoyed this piece a lot!
Renee Espriu
Grandma Laughlin was a wise woman. How fortunate for you that she was in your life. The world is and always will be a difficult one in which we are put to the task of navigating tumultuous waters. Do take great care, my friend, in the midst of uncertainty.