This Picture Perfect Family
Is family of contradiction.
Hands hold the frame of the Portrait;
Bitterness seethes with friction.
Repulsive as summer cockroach,
Its artwork I wish to reproach.
Faces full of fake smiles-
Cloyingly sick, I want to puke!
The portrait presents many lies.

This Picture Perfect Family,
The truth is it has been defiled!
Father fights Mother; home havoc!
Harmony crushed by clamor.
Though I may be a naive child,
This family has a vicious void.
Resentment rattles with full force;
The essence of love long destroyed;
Hatred only settled with divorce!

This Picture Perfect Family
Can only appear in my dreams.
The tone of painting I abhor;
Behind our smiles, gloominess gleams,
It does not show there is a war.
My mind screams in frustration
Like the ******’s first castration.
I wish this wretched pain to bury-
Emotions blurred by apathy!

This Picture Perfect Family
Will not exist any longer!
I wonder now what is at stake-
Foundation of love macerates.
Hands tremor in anguish anger;
The Family Portrait drops and breaks.
Glass frame shatters; heart lacerates.

Oh, let this Portrait rot in hell…
Picture Perfect Family farewell!

(c) Jo Swan

Sundays, after beatings
He ignites the torrid grill
Browns the butter
Smacks and beats the eggs,
Ick! the shrill of boils in the scramble
Spattering at every turn
When he macerates those yolks;
Chunky bangers begin to scorch
And the tawny smoke that rises from the fry
Sheaths his face.
Greasy sweat drops begin to strain from his enlarged
and scowled pores;
A gooey film of grime and slime
Skims down and plunks into his fry,
Froth around the mouth
He slobbers more and primes his grub one final time.
He crams a pile on to his fork
Without inhaling he swallows and
He gobbles
His jowls are brimming
Will he choke?