Well, uncle Hannibal surprised us all.

The invitation read, “Please come to lunch.”

My brothers said, “ignore that old screwball.”

They really were a most ungrateful bunch.

*

I said, “I know that uncle H. is weird,

but aunt Clarice is always sweet and kind.

Thanksgiving lunch should surely not be feared,

so I’d say ‘yes’ if you guys didn’t mind.”

*

Reluctantly, both Jack and Ted agreed.

Thanksgiving Sunday dawned, we rang his bell.

The boys said they were ready for a feed,

the door swung wide, releasing such a smell!

*

We followed uncle H., he led inside.

“Straight to the dining room,” he waved an arm.

Jack held his nose, “it smells like someone died.

Or maybe Dobbin’s droppings in gramp’s farm.”

*

The table had four settings, that was odd.

If aunt Clarice was here it should be five.

I wondered if my aunt had gone abroad,

or…could it be…that aunt Clarice, was…dead?

*

My musings ceased when Hannibal came back.

He bore a cooking pot which he plonked down.

“My kin,” he said, “you’re on the inside track;

No one who eats my stew will wear a frown.”

*

Jack pulled a face and Ted began to gag.

Our uncle served us with a silver spoon.

“This casserole’s sublime, though I may brag;

with flavours, savours fit to make you swoon.”

*

I sifted through the slop upon my plate.

Picked out three phalanges bleached ghostly white.

I’d heard of finger food, but, come on, wait!

To gnaw on human digits wasn’t right.

*

My brother Ted held up a collar bone.

“I think that this might be a clavicle.

Dear uncle, I guess that I’m not alone,

in chewing on a human ossicle.”

*

Our uncle, Hannibal, stood up and sighed.

“This special Thanksgiving praises your aunt.

She passed away last week, my gorgeous bride.

Each one of us should be a celebrant.”

*

“I just can’t bury Clarice with no fuss.

Let’s all incorporate her in our flesh.

So we preserve her essence within us,

her body and our bodies will enmesh.”

*

I looked at Jack and Ted, their eyes were wet.

I knew – they knew – he was a cannibal.

But never would our uncle strange forget.

We stood and drank a toast to Hannibal.