dear relatives in their dotage

Uncle Carbuncle made his stand
(not his last I do hope and
might parenthetically add)
but his plump lively spouse of
these many meandered decades,

years not quite squandered yet
blundered somewhat
with her flaxen hair in plush braids
and lips tender as fish
sat beneath his great bulk
in her final fertile tirade
and pouty temptress sulk

while the river Nile like a scoundrel band
of amputee pirates thick with rum and mud
roiled and rushed through plundered miles
and ancient unburied histories of family life
and quite confused unending
hierarchical social strife,

yes Uncle Carbuncle was
a man of dumb mute luck,
enfogged in rainy curtains
of Hitchcockian mystery
but his dear wife,
the unwidowed Aunt Agatha
was a 2 eared winsome
exploratory Christian gal
radiant with clear squeaky clean
compulsive light,

a true blue fountain
who gushed forth a fat rump
of hopeful plenty
a lofty tush for the Unc to caress
and pinch on the sly with nary
a harrumph,

his darling wife so unmild
and silently wild
like a quiescent prayer
or animal of laughter
to fuck in the rosebushes---
let us praise the skygods
and not the hereafter--
she, thank the good lord,
is so damn flush with life!