Before the booze-up session, all are statues.
Their prior falling-outs lodge doggedly
Upon their mouths like pillars of a building.
The visit’s just a plain formality.
But when the drinks are served, all lips begin
To open slow like rusty dungeon doors.
A glow of cheer unfolds upon their cheeks
Like dawn illuminates night-darkened shores.
Once they have reached the point of being swacked,
Then one by one they clear the awful air
Infected with self-pride, distaste, and spite.
The daftest cousin turns into Voltaire.
The silent uncle starts to sing his praises
Of how he’d saved three bullocks in a flood.
The two-faced aunt becomes a freedom fighter:
I’ll kill and die for us! We are one blood!
And I, the teetotaller, sit and weigh
If they’ll return to stone the coming day.
*****
Shamik Banerjee writes: “The absurd, ridiculous, and perennial drama between my relatives’ families inspired me to write this poem.”
Shamik Banerjee is a poet from India. He resides in Assam with his parents. Some of his recent works will appear in York Literary Review, Willow Review, Thimble Lit, and Modern Reformation, to name a few.
Photo: from original publication of the poem in Dear Booze: https://dearbooze.com/cocktales/f/in-a-family-gathering
A fine poem by a talented poet. Bravo! Encore!
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I love his portraits and small stories!
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