Avuncular viscosity ::Graphic content::

(Probably more a short story than free verse In any case it’s true, seen through my eyes as a child) He was a heavy smoker sat by the fire Coughing and wheezing hacking up phlegm spitting it into the blazing hearth, that hissed back contemptuously upon contact On a rare occasion when he’d miss, the dog would lick up the gooey mass with a determined exuberance A filthy habit I heard some say behind his back, but he was always happy, didn’t care less what others thought of him, a real character, anyway my whole family and I liked him He was our uncle from rural Ireland, we visited him and his wife on their small farm a couple of times each year, probably more so, when my Dad had a car that worked, My sister and I used to make grossed out faces at each other when he expectorated into the open hearth of the fire, we thought it was pretty cool, and grotesquely funny One spit in particular is legendary, he spat out a stringy length of gunk but needed his fingers to help pull it away from his mouth and direct it towards the fire, some actually made the distance, amazingly the dog raised his head and caught the rest of it, happily wolfing it down, I mean come on! we were still in tears laughing, on the way home in the car On later visits it seemed bits of his face were disappearing or bandaged, still he never complained, his voice was almost gone anyway, and most unusually he wasn’t smoking I was only a kid and in those days you weren’t supposed to ask questions, but it didn’t stop me asking my dad, what was happening to uncle? He told me uncle had cancer of the mouth, and part of his tongue and lips had to be cut away, warning me never to smoke, even though he had one lighting in his hand Innocent me thought uncle’s face would grow back and he’d be ok, but unfortunately he died pretty soon afterwards, Damn I used to be spellbound watching him trying to catch his breath and hoofing viscous gunk upon the fire, even more so when he missed I tried to copy him on a visit to my aunt just after he passed away, of course I missed the fire on purpose, The dog never budged My sister shook her head I was truly ashamed! By David Kavanagh