A film
It's called House 4
It's about my Granny
When she was very old
 90+
  every time
   when I met her
    I thought
     it was
     the last time
Once I secretly recorded her
 because I thought again
  it was the last time
  and that time was indeed the last
Six months later she was gone
I wanted to seal time
She talked
It was a monologue for long stretches
A topology of memories
She no longer knew
 how to navigate it
between
War
Father
Profession
Work
Moves
Cities
Daughters
Siblings
These knots of memory were
her company
 in the hopeless loneliness
What was missing
 was reinvented
A tired soul
 that says goodbye

There are no souls
There is protein and suffering
There is rotting
There is forgetting and remembering
There is a coffin in the backyard of the morgue
next to the rubbish bins
There is 35 degrees in the morning
There is a space blanket
 that shines golden in the sun
There is a pathologist
 who smokes a cigarette next to the coffin
There is a road to the cemetery
 covered with dry mud
There is mother
 holding on to the air
There is a rubber mat
under the coffin in a GAZelle
 which, despite the rubber mat
 slips and almost falls over
I help the rubber mat
There is a hole in the clay floor
There is a building rubble container
 filled with orthodox grave crosses
There is the word WASTE
in white writing
according to GOST
on the rubble container
There are bribes to gravediggers
 so that they won't shit in the grave
There is a wake
 which does good

The room
Is the last room
She remembered Nazis
 She wanted to destroy them all
She remembered
how she was stealing potato peels
 to make potato pancakes
She confused her daughters
She always closed the curtains
 it was always dark in the room
She used to prepare herself
She always said
 Retirement home?
 No way!
 Better straight to the cemetery!
And so it was

RIP