Page 22 - Demo

Ditching the Guff8GenesAs a child, I thought my Nanna unique,eccentric to some, exotic as the parrots she kept,an Aladdin%u2019s Cave of knickknacks jumbled on walls,always treats of baked biscuits, lollies from a jar.From the dark haired, clear skinned biasof endless youth, came teenage judgement.Saw Grandmother%u2019s slow shuffle, soft slippersworn year round, their heels crushed inwards.Vowed I wouldn%u2019t do that.Heard Grandmother with her sistersshare the world%u2019s biggest joke,like farm house chooks, all a-cackle together.Swore I wouldn%u2019t sound like that.Caught just a glimpse of brown eyesthat crinkled at the slightest excusealmost vanished into a street map of laugh lines.Didn't want my skin to end up like that.Saw Grandmother, Aunties, a roly-poly army,crimson, orange, purple patterned pinniescovering lumpy breasts, non-existent waists.Promised myself that wouldn't be me.I can imagine my Nanna,that fountainhead of our gene pooland know she's had the last laugh.