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The Weekly Croissant: Dead Cat Bounce
My grandmother had a boyfriend on every continent and She would rotate between them in her jet-setting merry-go-round way Collecting a pension in England, practicing her Spanish in Columbia Borrowing a car in Chicago, feeling rich on wine in Stellenbosch Don’t get me wrong, she was not rich, just a high-risk investor; Give her a dollar and it was gone within the hour. Starfruit, healing crystals, German choir, a donation to the World Wildlife Fund Each new expense a sure bet rebound from the last When did the stop, start, and around again became an inarguable downward spiral? The death of her dignity like a melting iceberg, Hard to watch and too obvious to ignore Found naked in a public park, she was apprehended, driven home By the police, shrieking, and wrapped in an old sheet Banned from the senior center for stealing food stamps and uninvited to the birthday party at the all you-could-eat buffet But there was always that dead cat bounce Doing the cancan, drunk on champagne at my insufferable college graduation I led her to the car, our legs still kicking the air in unison, Her impossibly thin arm draped over my shoulder, terrifying the debutantes
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