Aunt Rant and Uncle Knuckle
fight tooth-and-nail, belt-and-buckle.
Weeks of calm go by and then
something sets them off again.
Uncle Knuckle likes his Scotch.
Aunt Rant nags, “You drink too much.”
So he drinks more ‘til, man oh man, she
morphs into a screaming banshee.
That’s when Knuckle meets her eye.
Shot glass shatters; curses fly.
Neighbors shrug, another brawl--
crash, boom, bang, and caterwaul!
Call 9-1-1; he goes to jail.
Aunt Rant always posts his bail.
Weeks go by and then…and then…
Well, that’s the way they’ve always been.
Author notes
One of my greatest influences is Mother Goose. She had a way of reducing serious subjects down to readable, quotable bites that simple folk could get into. Word play begins in the nursery and can last a lifetime if one is lucky to stay open to it.
A contest entry
- I can't believe I'm doing this again Part Deux by NoUseForAName.
700 points, ended December 31, 2008, 25 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I know a bit of time has passed since the contest ended; forgive me. I just want to say thanks for the trophy. I entered your contest because you sound intelligent, so your recognition means something to me. Thanks again.
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