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When we learned our elderly, kind granddad had died,
All paternal cousins traveled, gathered and cried.
Later, the ‘reception drive’ offered varied rides;
In Rachel’s auto, they shared a liquor-filled flask
And in Rob’s ancient van, a joint or two was passed.
If any cousin did not seek a high that day,
Terry drove sober now that she was freely gay.

At the reception, we all loved, giggled and shared.
Funny, that the sober car was the last one there!
In time, we caught up using our familiar flair.

Rob, Rachel and Rita’s Father had been paroled.
Rob still refused to pay taxes or live controlled.
Rachel lost her job when her flask fell out and rolled.
Rita found Jesus after holding marigolds
And walking naked down a long suburban road.

Mark was racing fast cars, playing music in bars
And had built a planetarium to view stars.
His maternal grandmother supplied the dollars
So why not avoid wearing a working collar?
Terry shared the same dollars-aplenty, flow-jar.
She had just graduated college with honor,
Moved in with Sue (who then quit work as a mauler),
And now barely left their home built near water.

I shared my struggle to work a forty hour week,
Make sure my special needs child never feels defeat
And bear my third spouse, who keeps a petulant heat.
When a toast or a toke to Granddad was complete,
Mark grabbed his guitar and set a steady, good beat.
Each cuz, in turn, sang their made up line which was neat:

“We’re from the family tree of true dysfunction.
What others call stupid, we see as brave gumption.
We do not take kindly to outside instruction
Stalling our families’ chaotic production.
If we pass loud gas, we won’t care if others laugh.
Now, just like real life, our song has gone off track.”




May 27, 2016

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