She made a scene at the wedding
Wearing a black leather miniskirt
Upstaging the livid bride
My kids thought she was exciting and cool
She’d been to Africa and Peru
When I stalled on a San Francisco hill
And cars behind began honking
She stood up through the sunroof
And launched a barrage of obscenities at them
Red flushed with fury
Then laughing thoroughly when she slid back down
Not bothering to brush back
The dirty-blonde strands in her face
Looking triumphantly to me
But not for approval
relatives like Aunt Rita were always my favourites. they had a confidence and wild streak nobody else in my family seemed to possess. great poem, Michael! Jake
I'd love to meet your Aunt Rita. Extremely witty poem! Gershon
Michael, I love this poem. We all know these people, love them even. A friend once told me everyone has at least one redeeming quality. However sometimes we have to dig for it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
thoroughly enjoyable work. -Tailor B.