Everybody has a family exactly like mine.
You know it.

Where Grandma Rose and Grand Aunt Gen
would love to get at each others throats,
but, age crippled from toes to noses
and so senile they wouldn’t remember
what to do once they got into position
to throttle each other,if they could,
but they can’t, because
sitting between their beds in her rocking chair
is my angelic innocent sister Brenda, saying,
“Now, come on girls, Nobody remembers why you
hate each other.”
While my little brother, Matt, draws a
perfect bead on Poppa Max head with a baseball bat,
but manages only to knock the radio antenna off
Uncle Ingamars vintage, rusted out, mint conditioned
1966 Ford Mustang Coup
while my loopy rednecked Orthodox Jewish Cousin Jeff,
trying to shoot everyone for reasons unremembered
by everyone, especially himself,
manages only to blow holes in front of his boots,
but never hit his toes, while catching his thumb
in the hammer of his Colt 45 and whispering “ouch”
while I yell from the back seat of my older brother
Bobby’s old Edsel,
while fondling our busty cousin, Gillian,
“Holy Shit, Sherlock!
Here comes Jeffery!
Floor it, Jasper!”
which he does, right into a roving gang of assorted
Aunts, Uncles, third cousins twice removed,
schlepping what, in any decent war movie
would be big bazookas but in this family
are Roy Rogers lunch boxes and real antique reel to reel
movie cameras with which they are all trying
to get this 40th reunion on film.
” Family Feud – Take 27!” yells Uncle Norman.
And the cameras roll!

God! How I love them all!

Doesn’t everyone have a family just like mine?

Including You?