NATIONAL POETRY DAY

TWISTED FAMILY TREE

Many, many years ago  
when I was twenty three,  
I got married to a widow  
who was pretty as could be,  

This widow had a daughter  
Who had hair of crimson red.  
My father fell in love with her,  
And soon the two were wed.  

This made my dad my son-in-law  
And changed my very life.  
My daughter was my mother,  
For she was my father's wife.  

To complicate the matters worse,  
Although it brought me joy,  
I soon became the father  
Of a bouncing baby boy.  

My little baby then became  
A brother-in-law to dad.  
And so became my uncle,  
Though it made me very sad.  

For if he was my uncle,  
Then that also made him brother  
To the widow's grown-up daughter  
Who, of course was my step-mother.  

Father's wife then had a son,  
Who kept them on the run.  
And he became my grandson,  
For he was my daughter's son.  

My wife is now my mother's mom.  
And it surely makes me blue.  
Because, although she is my wife,  
She is my grandma too.  

If my wife is my grandmother,  
Then I am her grandchild.  
And every time I think of it,  
It simply drives me wild.  

For now I have become  
The strangest case you ever saw.  
As the husband of my grandmother,  
I am my own grandpa!

By Barton Sinclair