Poem: Crazy Like Grandpa by Mark Tulin


He was senile as my Aunt called it,

didn’t know my name or who was president.

Yet, he battled each day, strong as a warrior

up until that moment he was forced to let go.

He couldn’t wave his cane or cause mischief anymore.

He broke his hip, rode sidesaddle to the hospital

and we never heard from him again.

I told my Grandpa before being lowered into the grave:

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a crazy sonovabitch like you.”


I am an author, poet, humorist, and short story writer from Palm Springs, California. I write about various topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia to my years as a family therapist and finally to my soul-searching in California. These are poetic narratives that may have humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry and stories resonate with you.

2 comments on “Poem: Crazy Like Grandpa by Mark Tulin

  1. Theresa Ruiz

    We have all had relatives like this. I remember my “Grandpa” Paul or “Polo” as he was called. You never approached him directly because he spoke Spanish. Grandma would always ask us to say “hello” to him nonetheless. And I would out of respect for her. Thank you for bringing up the happy memory of pleasing her.

  2. I hope Grandpa Polo caused a good ruckus!

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