My Whole Family Is Dysfunctional Poem by Michael Philips
My Whole Family Is Dysfunctional
I.
I haven’t spoken to my brother in ten years.
His brain was slammed in a car accident,
never got any therapy because dad didn’t believe in it.
Somehow he came into some money
and spent it on surplus military vehicles,
which he leases to Hollywood from time to time.
II.
When my dad’s appendix burst, he didn’t know it,
tried to kill the pain with bourbon,
finally phoning me in delirious distress
and I called the ambulance.
My sister wouldn’t let the paramedics in.
The police came with a megaphone,
busted down the door.
III.
I hadn’t spoken to my alcoholic mother in 13 years
when a stranger called and said she was dying.
I flew to Chicago and spent the afternoon
at her comatose side telling her body
what I’d been doing for the last 13 years.
She died the next afternoon
while I was out getting a sandwich.
... and I thought my family was wayout enough...your admirable poem helps to link us all in this - what? - tragic farce or farcical tragedy called family, whom we love so desperately... thanks.
wow, Michael. you have intertwined comedy with tragedy so tightly that by the time i reached the end of this i couldn't decide whether i wanted to laugh or sob like a baby. outstanding work! Jake
This is such a great poem. This makes me want to do the same............but I wouldn't insult you by imitating. You've done a great job and I think the majority of families are dysfunctional, most people just hide it very well. I like your honesty. Sincerely, Mary
Michael, Takes guts to write a poem like this, especially the final stanza. Good work. John
Yes, Michael. We were watching 'Six Feet Under'. My wife commented that the difficulties of the characters are more extreme than those of most of us. I said I don't know about that, we just tend to take our own lives as 'given'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:56:01 AM # 1.0.0.1119
And that, my dear Michael, is probably one of the reasons you are a poet (instead of a serial murderer) . And still your mourn your mother's death and write these details so you know you are not dysfunctional. Good poem. Thanks for sharing...and welcome back! Raynette