Weird Cousin

I had a weird cousin once, second hand

She lived in 10024, Manhattan for short

Her persona was west of the nineteen sixties

Dressing up as a retired hippie

Not knowing what shampoo was, nor toothpaste

Reminding everyone that nuclear bombs kill, what a surprise!

She lived in a room, yes just one

Cheap, made it hip, acceptable

Cleaning never took place, except facially

Lost, in books and second hand Lena Horn disks

Traveling in a lesser class than cattle class

Spending money, well she never spent she sponged

Argumentative being her middle name, confrontational, her first

Lost in people management skills, there were none

Rubbing more people wrongly than she was rubbed herself

Between bee pollen shakes, she would splutter through brown teeth

Never wrong, always articulate, loud mouthed but correct

Telling her otherwise was a waste of energy

She could be lovable through her eccentricities

Spending much time caring for those who bought dinner

Twenty years my senior, far junior in behavior

A coming together of disagreements ending the volatility

Seventeen years since my blood pressure returned to normal

No calls and no visits, she must be a lonely soul.

© Alan Zoltie

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