Barbeque – a poem

I saw a boxing match on the television,
instant recognition.
it reminded me direct about or last summer barbecue.
Dad had quit smoking and was a tad pissed off. Mom took forever to get dressed. That’s stomach did hurt from the stress. Payment was due.
Uncle Walter had too much to drink,
he vomited in the kitchen sink.
Dad can’t drink anymore because of his busted pancreas.
Still more oil on the fire it was.
There was a discussion over the meat.
The heat of the debate was agonizing.
It was still raw accounting to uncle.
He had the cooking skills of a carbuncle.
Dad said it was charcoal.
It made my uncle’s blood boil.
Eventually it came to pulling and punching.
Wifes had to untangle their men.
Lunching with family, always a pleasure.
I was happy,
this visit was crappy.
Next year we wouldn’t be invited anymore.
I stay rather with my dog and laptop cozy at home, barbequing is such a bore.

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