Tag Archives: Uncle

Mrs. Muzzle

By Monday morning,
a furious Mrs. Muzzle
pounced on Uncle's lap,
took her petite paw
and gave his smirking lips
several wicked whacks.

But he continued to talk
as if he was used to that
repeating a tedious tale
about a dubious time
when Smear the Queer
was a Hunger Game
the neighborhood kids
would play.

And everyone was proud and happy
though no one was proud and gay.

Problem people stayed silent
otherwise they were gagged,
and proper people spoke English
with a mid-West accent -
the same one Jesus had.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

A Sort of Homecoming

Uncle was bad at everything
Cape Cod cares about.

He excelled in one way only:
he loved my fault-finding aunt without reason.

He was blessed in one way only:
his indulgent family loved him without reason.

Today we buried him next to my waiting aunt
in the only home he has wanted for seven years.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief