Uncle Cleo

His real name was Cliff... But we called him Cleo Van Hoppenburg, Better known as "Uncle Cleo", To all who did love him... Though not quite normal of mind, He was the center of attention, You probably know the kind... Favorite phrases... "Ho, ho, ho!!!" "Dommy (me..his nearest version to Tommy).... Doozie Botts!!!..... Oh, he put on a show! An easy target to fool with, Specially for me and my cuz... For the weird things he said, And the weirder things that he does... He'd call up on the phone, Talk endlessly on... I'd set down the phone... Go away for awhile, Watch some TV, have a beer, Come back, he's clueless, Still chewing my ear... One day he came to the door, Stuck his hand out to greet, Never expecting, I'm sure.... I grasped his friendly hand, And a Ju-Jitsu throw he did meet... Flew across the room, Hit the far wall well spread eagle... Laughing, though in pain.... I doubt my act was quite legal... He loved to be with me and friends... He was always of alcohol, abuzz, An open target for torture, For me and my cuz, That's just the way that it was... We'd entice him to sing, He eagerly agreed We taped him singing "Silent Night", While on our instruments, We played blues... It was, I guess, a shameful bad tease, But from laughter so hard, I just had to sneeze... Soon bent over so painful, I dropped to my knees... Recorded his insanity, For all to enjoy.... For many years after, That tape we did deploy... His weakness for boose, Especially a bottle of wine... He'd down it cross-eyed, Till he did pass out, which he did just fine... He'd fall to the floor, Dressed in Nazi helmet, American flag t-shirt, Didn't matter to him, If it was caked in deep dirt... Yet him we would ignore... And took Polaroids to capture, For the future to see... Just what and how, My world could be... And when the monthly check day, it did come.... He'd restart his cycle, Quite startling some, And he was money wise, That is quite true, The rounds of Jamaica bars, he'd make, And bar business, it grew... He'd take a bus, To our house, and from the bus stop, Some pedestrian would tell us, He was drunk as a sop... I'd have to go, 'Round the corner, To carry him home, Not an easy task, I assure you, Getting him, 'ol chrome dome Back to the homestead, Where with his great gaul, He find himself in the yard, And there he did fall... continued.....