For fathers who have cursed their own relations,
There are some hellish treats in preparation!
First dear mother-in-law, with a special cake in store.
Chopped up pieces of tongue, with just a taste of lung.
Spicy, jellied jaws, to remember all those tedious wars!
She has a crate of poison beer for you to drink today,
And will heartily cheer as your demise comes near!
What about your beloved wife whose life is full of strife?
You left her in the lurch, sadly waiting at the church.
The ring you lost in a bar, swearing it was in fact the car.
On your wedding anniversary, you are rather mercenary!
Half-dead flowers from a cheap, run-down gas station,
All you offer to your nearest and dearest relation!
She’s bought you a mug of slugs with a litre of rats’ blood.
A joint of rotten flesh, cut from a stinking leg of mutton.
You’ve been hard on your boy, Roy, calling him a glutton.
He’s got you a few sheep’s eyes, in tasty, little pies.
As for your girl, Sue, who knows what she’ll do?
You told her, dear sweetheart, she was a lazy little fart!
She’s taken hair from the dead, to stick on your bald head!
The dog you label a skunk, when you’re hopelessly drunk,
Will have the last bark, as you trip over him in the dark!
So Happy Father’s Day, we all lovingly say.
Yet, you’re no so bad, it’s true,
with a sense of humour, too!
Sarah Das Gupta is a school teacher currently living in Cambridge, UK. She has taught in India, Tanzania, and the UK. Her work has been published in a number of magazines and journals including: Paddler, The Chamber, Bull, Waywords, Parcham, Shallot, Mule Skinner, Pure Haiku, and others.
Her interests include Art, Medieval History, Horse Racing, and Ghosts.