Auckland Poetry.com

My American Family

I have a half brother in Arizona and a half sister in Idaho,
they know of me but pretend not to, mother told them before
she died, that she had a child before she married their father.
My brother has a ranch, is a congressman, tall, square jawed
and wears a white cowboy hat. I’ve written him many letters
they always come back stamped “not known at this address.”
I do understand he preaches family value and morality, if it
should come out that his own mother had been a bit of a tart
in her youth, he may not be re-elected again.
My sister has enormous fields of potatoes, she also has a pig
farm, she never bothers to answer my many letters, but I bear
no grudges, she is into politics too she is the mayor of a small
town on the plain. When her potato fields were swamped with
flood water and all her pigs drowned, I sent a letter of empathy
and for the first time she answered, denied she was my sister
and told me not to send anymore begging letters. Me! I only
asked if she could send me a packet of bacon flavoured potato
crisps and she took umbrage. As I said I bear no grudges I’m
panning for gold in the Rio Seco, Portugal and when I’m rich
they will like know me and we will be a happy family again.

Unlucky for Some

For fifty years he worked long hours, in
a low paid job, and cunningly saved his
money so his dream could come true.

At seventy he bought a handsome car,
a Mercedes that reflected, on its shiny
body, the moon and twinkling stars

The car is still there, outside his hut, it
shines ok, but has lost its lustre, petrol
so dear, that his dream cannot be driven.

Unfair World.

12 brave piglets fled the flooded farm in
Idaho scampered up a levee grunted and
looked for things to eat… fat chance.

Porkers, even the sweet ones, have no
business on a levee, it is quite unheard of
and can only lead to dire consequences.

Fairy tales have happy endings, the valiant
gets to live long in the land, real live,
however is a sorry affair…for all of us.

The 12 piglets, their bravery unrewarded,
were used as target practice by men in blue;
they never even got to be a Sunday roast

As an after thought it is odd to think had
the piglets been inedible dogs they would
have been saved and given a loving home.