Monday, July 20, 2009
Chuckie by Karen Brockway
I love my little brother
though it's taken sixty years
It must have been my teasing
'bout those glasses and those ears
He's wreaked revenge upon me
it wasn't undeserved
I've always felt it was his fault
for being such a nerd
(I mean LOOK at that yearbook photo!
He paid me back in punches
my arms were purple kissed
bear hugs that squeezed your life breath out
he'd grin, "Nice to see you, sis."
Feeling good in that new hair-do?
"What HAPPENED to your hair?"
Proud of that mosaic pot?
"You missed a spot right there."
But one day engine oil appeared
in the gas tank of my mower
Blue smoke filled my backyard like fog
and who drove all the way over?
Without complaining, I might add
but I know he felt the glory
regaling clerks at the parts store
with his hilarious sister story
And even though he'll rip this ode
with heartless literary criticism
at my poetry reading he and Lynn
showed up to sit and listen.
My brother still looks youthful
and he's mellowing with age
but hopefully he'll keep his edge--
some things should never change.