Merry...Ah Shut The Hell Up
Happy Thanksgiving
I think somethings wrong with my uncle.
I have two.
And both are pretty wack.
One loves his wife to the point of being a creep.
And the other one might have found the lost city of Atlantis down my shirt . And his eyes are the shovel.
Where did family go wrong?
In the creaky house with the blue carpet.
Mismatched relatives mingle under the roof.
I sit on a loveseat loveless and lifeless.
I make sure my bra straps are covered so 'Chris columbus' doesn't make another exploration.
My chest feels tight like wound up pantyhose.
I want to go home.
The 'blackaroni and cheese' has mysterious cubes in it.
The lasagna isn't cooked all the way.
Was that how the pilgrims made it?
'Ye olde half baked'
Oh delicious.
And my aunt Pam sits next to me and I feel like less of a neurotic.
I'm not antisocial, just lonely
And I can't relate.
If I don't move, maybe I'll disappear.
Lamplights cast a glow like a halo around our heads.
For a second, we are all angels.
And when that second is over, we are family.
Sad little cardboard cutouts with corrugated hearts.
I love my dad, he's the only one that stays the same.
He's black and white.
His bald head a clear cover to his thoughts.
Mellow. On thanksgiving, black Friday, and chistmas.
Daddy stays the same.
The little ones jump around upstairs
Like flying pigs and burn the big meal in their little tummies like walking furnaces.
'no shenanigans! ' my dad yells up the stairs. He says this when he can't find the words to say.
And I smile because nothing has changed.
Merry samesgiving.
I think somethings wrong with my uncle.
I have two.
And both are pretty wack.
One loves his wife to the point of being a creep.
And the other one might have found the lost city of Atlantis down my shirt . And his eyes are the shovel.
Where did family go wrong?
In the creaky house with the blue carpet.
Mismatched relatives mingle under the roof.
I sit on a loveseat loveless and lifeless.
I make sure my bra straps are covered so 'Chris columbus' doesn't make another exploration.
My chest feels tight like wound up pantyhose.
I want to go home.
The 'blackaroni and cheese' has mysterious cubes in it.
The lasagna isn't cooked all the way.
Was that how the pilgrims made it?
'Ye olde half baked'
Oh delicious.
And my aunt Pam sits next to me and I feel like less of a neurotic.
I'm not antisocial, just lonely
And I can't relate.
If I don't move, maybe I'll disappear.
Lamplights cast a glow like a halo around our heads.
For a second, we are all angels.
And when that second is over, we are family.
Sad little cardboard cutouts with corrugated hearts.
I love my dad, he's the only one that stays the same.
He's black and white.
His bald head a clear cover to his thoughts.
Mellow. On thanksgiving, black Friday, and chistmas.
Daddy stays the same.
The little ones jump around upstairs
Like flying pigs and burn the big meal in their little tummies like walking furnaces.
'no shenanigans! ' my dad yells up the stairs. He says this when he can't find the words to say.
And I smile because nothing has changed.
Merry samesgiving.