I am quite annoyed
at my 14-year-old cousin
because he did not
want to play magic.
My 12-year-old cousin
is laughing at my sister
because she sneezed
at the dinner table,
sort of on my cousin.
It’s a recurring thing.
My older cousin and everyone else is now
talking about his hair.
‘How long would it be?’ I ask
wonderingly, looking at his hair.
So springy, like a field of red and orange
flowers blooming on a hill,
so thick you can’t see
the grass.
‘Probably long,’ my aunt speculates.
My grandfather makes a joke, we all laugh.
My mother asks a funny follow-up question.
We all laugh more.
My uncle makes a joke.
And now we’re laughing so hard.
We can’t stop.
We don’t try.
My dad
makes a comment.
He says it out loud.
We’re laughing so hard.
My grandmother says
something funny.
Now we’re laughing
harder than before.
But now we’ve stopped.
And now I can feel
the dog, Pico
under the table.
And now I hear
my cat, Emmett
hiss.
And now we’re laughing
again.
We’re together.
We’re happy.