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Like quicksilver changing  moods in a day
Cousin Bess defies norms, such freakish will;
A  dazed mess about her I can’t even  explain…
Whenever late, she blames the neighbor’s cat
For  tearing the seams of  her outlandish dress .

But we have no kitties along our street…
And she gives excuses, displaying waves of fur,
That are tangles from her soaked  hair in bad dye
While she faces the mirror, “Yes, I’m the dame!
Until her face cracks , puffed with layered rouge.

Oh, more bedlam quakes when a grandchild asks
If dear cousin is a walking antique;
“ Don’t  ever dare think I‘m that old,” vain Bess fumes…
Everyone  giggles inside as chaos runs wild,
Upon hearing her sixty-five year old joints squeak!

To prove the household wrong, she rocks and rolls
Fluttering with a mop, the radio blasting on,
Her eyes crazed by an Elvis' bebop tune…
No, no, quirky Bess’ knees lock from asthma,
Into the hospital we race, forgetting her wig!



Brian Davey’s Contest: Cousin Chaos
6/10/2016

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