November 21, 2019The Metamorphosis of Gregor Samsa and My Grandpa
Kafka, what were Gregor Samsa’s
unruhigen Träumen—
restless dreams?
I’ve dreamed of two, tiny snakes
with skin
shimmering silver
like a sardine.
Flying out of an oak,
they wrap around my wrists.
In another, I’ve dreamed
of my grandpa
whose torso split in two;
insides pink like a spiral ham.
Dreams dissolve
like a copy
of a copy of a copy.
Kafka, what were Gregor’s restless memories?
I remember my grandpa,
who died nine years ago,
carving the Christmas ham,
saying to my mom,
“You’re a nothing.”
He mistook
my sandalwood mala beads
for a subhar
and asked me if I enjoyed
killing people.
His brain processed information
like colors defying the color wheel—
red and blue makes green.
Last night, I dreamed
I was on an airplane with my cousin.
I no longer knew
his name
and I hid under the seat.
I awoke as myself.
Kafka, please transform me
into an ungeheures Ungeziefer—
tremendous vermin.
As Gregor awakes
from his restless dreams
he knows
yellow and blue makes green.
from Ekphrastic Challenge