My Family And Other Aliens (Poetry)
09th October 2011
There’s always been some doubt about Aunt Mabel
and cousin Lucy’s clearly off her head
Grandfather Pat is from another planet
and nobody dare mention Uncle Fred.
His brother — Uncle Ralph — has long disowned him
and looks embarrassed should somebody say
‘...and how’s old Fred?’ Ralph reddens — pauses awkward
then coughs before he turns and walks away.
When we were small we heard a conversation —
just snatches between Mother and Aunt Flo —
discussing all the shame of the announcement
when Uncle Fred decided they should know
he wasn’t quite the man they all imagined
and asked that they accept him all the same
but no one seemed the least bit sympathetic
and no one since will mention him by name.
We didn’t know the details and we couldn’t
get anyone to tell us what he’d done
and so we made up stories — did some guesswork —
the tales that we invented were more fun
than anything the grown-ups kept as secret
although one time Aunt Mabel did let slip
the fact that Fred had gone off on a mission
to find himself — a kind of hippy trip.
For years nobody even got a letter
and we grew up not knowing where he’d gone —
we wondered had he killed someone and languished
alone in jail until his time was done.
One day an airmail came from San Francisco
addressed to me and Sis — nobody else —
our Uncle Fred was writing to invite us
to visit him — just Susan and myself.
We didn’t tell the others we were going —
we booked a flight pretending we were set
on holidaying in a Tuscan village
instead of transatlantic on a jet.
Uncle Fred was tall and tanned and handsome —
he owned a dozen hairdressers or more
five hat shops and The Café Frederica —
his name in lights above each friendly door.
And he was fun — we bonded in an instant
and Mike — his long-term partner — made us feel
that blood ties — on the whole — are incidental
when friendship proves more lasting and more real.
The family have cut him off forever
determined it is best if nothing’s said —
like aliens they sit around the table
and nobody dare mention Uncle Fred.
and cousin Lucy’s clearly off her head
Grandfather Pat is from another planet
and nobody dare mention Uncle Fred.
His brother — Uncle Ralph — has long disowned him
and looks embarrassed should somebody say
‘...and how’s old Fred?’ Ralph reddens — pauses awkward
then coughs before he turns and walks away.
When we were small we heard a conversation —
just snatches between Mother and Aunt Flo —
discussing all the shame of the announcement
when Uncle Fred decided they should know
he wasn’t quite the man they all imagined
and asked that they accept him all the same
but no one seemed the least bit sympathetic
and no one since will mention him by name.
We didn’t know the details and we couldn’t
get anyone to tell us what he’d done
and so we made up stories — did some guesswork —
the tales that we invented were more fun
than anything the grown-ups kept as secret
although one time Aunt Mabel did let slip
the fact that Fred had gone off on a mission
to find himself — a kind of hippy trip.
For years nobody even got a letter
and we grew up not knowing where he’d gone —
we wondered had he killed someone and languished
alone in jail until his time was done.
One day an airmail came from San Francisco
addressed to me and Sis — nobody else —
our Uncle Fred was writing to invite us
to visit him — just Susan and myself.
We didn’t tell the others we were going —
we booked a flight pretending we were set
on holidaying in a Tuscan village
instead of transatlantic on a jet.
Uncle Fred was tall and tanned and handsome —
he owned a dozen hairdressers or more
five hat shops and The Café Frederica —
his name in lights above each friendly door.
And he was fun — we bonded in an instant
and Mike — his long-term partner — made us feel
that blood ties — on the whole — are incidental
when friendship proves more lasting and more real.
The family have cut him off forever
determined it is best if nothing’s said —
like aliens they sit around the table
and nobody dare mention Uncle Fred.