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The Complete History of Aunts
By Paul D. McGlynn

Aunts are never naked, do not primp.
At night they dress in ghastly gowns.
They materialize, like smoke, from cars,
Indeed from living room doors,
Flowered like the very furniture,
Inebriate from chicken salad.
Aunts are ubiquitous and kind,

Everywhere tidying, offering treats
Of cookie, macaroon, or dollar bill,
Brisk as poultry, angels of the Good,
But never naked, nor were meant to be.
Glance at an aunt through slanted glass;
You will see a caricature of Saint,
Tin profile of a homely apostle.

On nightmare knees they say their beads,
And they clump about on marble legs,
Handing coins to nephews,
Curling the iron hair of nieces,
And clucking at news of worthless uncles.
Aunts wailed at the foot of Jesus’ cross
And will wail one day at yours and mine.