The Senile Aunt and the Knit Hat
On a dark and stormy Winter night the air was full of yuletide idiocy,
For Christmas was approaching with a greedy widening grin insidiously.
Eggnog sloshed in decorated cups whose painted pretty elves,
Had sat all year combing cobwebbed hair atop the basement shelves.
Aunts and uncles from Irish genes were not-so-subtly tipping the rum,
Into these nonce-drunk eggnog cups to overcome feeling sober and glum.
Gifts exchanged for the nieces and nephews were the typical "here-ya-go",
Pink curly dolls for simple Sally and blue boyish toys for the average Joe.
But for me, I was given from my aunt a purple hat that she had knit,
With a navy blue stripe that would round my head with its perfect fit.
I thought nothing of the hat despite my exaggerated "thanks" and pathetic smile,
As my aunt proudly placed the hat on me, wrinkling a wink which made her look senile.
After the celebration of the birth of some ancient Jew, the family retired to bed,
Except for myself and my aunt who gave me the hat, when then to me she said:
"I know you can see behind the lies of these festivities, for you and I are alike,
And not just because you like boys and I am what rude people often call a dike."
Horrified that she had just revealed my secret skeletons hidden in the closet,
I stood there unblinking with an open mouth that looked like it was about to vomit.
"Yes I know, you little homo, who cares what everyone else thinks,
They can go suck on an egg through a straw as if it were a lollipop or drink.
What I refer to is something even more unusual than your orientation,
Which we share and that is sure to bring you even more frustration.
For you and I are what an esoteric few do call the Family Seers,
Gifted with sight of sound beyond what anyones' ears can hear."
I looked at her confused yet somehow aware of what she had meant,
For something about me has always felt a bit odd to a concerning extent.
"You know what I'm talking about, I see it in your dark cerulean eyes,"
She said, "they reveal the mind, which to others is always disguised.
You can see what others cannot and hear what sound has once been hidden,
By those with iron fists who rule and declared these stimuli forbidden.
But in you, perception of these secret beats has not been broken,
Now beware of what the power means within these words I've spoken.
You'll be overwhelmed in sense of light and sound within your ears and eyes,
Hearing voices in your head and seeing in shadows, many faces that laugh and cry.
My nephew, I need you not to fear, for I will always be wherever you go,
As long as you wear that purple and navy blue hat that I myself did sew."
Since then I've felt what she had warned, seeing and hearing what others could not,
And when I feel any fear from sights and I sounds I put on her hat and smoke some pot.
Copyright © Beej Simrov | Year Posted 2017
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