Southern Family Reunion

Bad subject sorta,

But I can identify,

With my dad’s side of the family

Family reunion,

Filled to the rim,

With guns and fights and

Whiskey on the pacifier,

Just to keep the young ones,

From crying

Old as dirt uncles,

Spit-fighting in the yard

over which was worse,

The Vietnam war,

Or the Korean war

And grandma tearing out wires,

in one uncles Harley,

So he wouldn’t drive it drunk

Instead we drove with a maniac,

We called dad

With no seatbelts, cause cars didn’t have them,

Traveling all over the place,

Sleeping in the back window

Uncle Jimmy with PTSD, sitting shotgun,

No one knew the name,

Of what Vietnam did to him

He was just shit-house nuts,

But he was fun and we loved him

A trash bag full of smoke in his trunk

Lord, memories

Now I’m old,

and would die if my kids acted,

like we did

Ā© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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10 comments

  1. We had all this plus the three old guys (not nearly so old as they looked, I learned later) sitting on the bench with their 02 tanks thanks to “the black lung.” Perhaps we’re distant cousins.

    Liked by 1 person

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