the blood moon river

your grandmother
who smoked Taryeton
cigarettes
was about five
feet tall
with fierce blue
eyes.
her mouth was
a scythe cutting
down
whoever was
in her path.
her hands were
like crocodile
paws,
against the white
and black
keyboard,
with blood red
nails.
but when she played
the piano, usually
moon river, she
was a different
person.
she almost forgot
who she was,
and became nice,
only occasionally
stopping to stomp
her feet
if you weren't
paying attention.