I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.

My grandma babbles about the "good ol' days",
an aunt stirs her tea.

The cousins are running wild "Who's watching them?"
Right, me.

My mother brags about her eldest daughter
and all her achievements;

I actually don't exist.

My uncle barks a drunken epithet,
hands slam on the table
laughter shakes shoulders.

Talk of kindergarten politics is touched upon.
The gays? They exist.
The poor? They're, well, poor.
The coloreds? Are they still here?

Dice are tossed,
feet shuffle under the table.

The dog yaps for scraps.

Uncle goes outside with a cigarette
takes a puff.

Auntie doesn't wanna go to bed,
says "a slavelord woulda haveta whip me to get me off this chair."

I decide I've had enough.

I get up for another drink.

I love my family.
But I hate spending time with them.