The Great Disposal

She was deceased, my grandmother

Packing was an abominable chore

Brothers deciding

Who would get what

(I already had the 200 yr old table)

Then the scream of horror

Guttural and disgusting

Great uncle Roy screaming

MY name

So I run

And there he stands over

A nightstand drawer

Peering at a simple

Creamy vibrator

Remove it he says!

I stared at the last

Remnants of

Grandma’s youth

And shivered

We found one

In every room

I knew because

There was always

A scream