Poetry by Dythandra

My Summer Vacation

The parentals insist, each year
Upon a family bonding time.
Camping was a disaster--Fire, lanterns,
Pointed marshmellow sticks...
And my imagination.

Though I did enjoy the bats
Who joined me each night to play.

Something different this year--a surprise
They promise. I despise surprises
Unless they're of my design.

I fear their bland conformity,
And brace myself for Yellowstone.
But the plane takes us to San Jose--
The Bay Area.
I almost smile--San Francisco has its perks.

But then the hammer falls,
A rental car, and down the coast we go.
Anaheim our destination.

But not before we stop the SUV and add
My Aunt and her annoyingly tanned
California kids.

Poor Aunty Jan--all alone, with those two
How does she ever manage
On the court ordered half mil a year
Her financier ex must pay.

Her spawn are first smug and superior
I have no precancerous coloring,
So they feel me unworthy of their company.

This suits me, until the son--my cousin, Daniel
(I remember him from the Dan and Danny incarnations)
Decides to find me exotic, or perhaps dangerous.
And his tiresome pursuit begins.

All manner of discouragement fails to dissuade
Even my intimation that his sister is more to my...
Well, suffice to say, it just increased his ardor.

At the mecca of the rodent's empire,
I relent enough to sample the rides
The Tower of Terror holds few for me
And the roller coaster is tame,
Though my Aunt loses her filet mignon.

I give my suitor a hint of encouragement.
"We'll ride the Small World together"
His eyes light up. He runs away with me
As I shake away his attempt to hold my hand.

We see an opportunity--it's early, and we manage
To get a boat to ourself.

Inside, I know exactly what to do
(I reconnoitered the day before)
At the right moment, we climb out
And sneak behind some horrible stereotypes
Of Africa's children.

I pull out the handcuffs I managed to sneak in
And his eyes light up.

Later, the park security is eventually told
About the young man behind the animatronic
Natives.

Seemed no one heard him for hours
Over that shrill song.
I whistle it all the way back
To San Francisco.

My parents agree that next year
The two of them are taking a cruise.