Why – years ago – I never visited those large family homes

While growing up, the source of my confused, muddled mood
Was, how was this person – whoever - related to that other silly brood

Parents had kids and, between meals and ritual baths, more kids
And even more kids
And – yes – EVEN more kids
And just when you thought that they would have to stop
Out another irritating, opinionated kid would pop.

Now, those kids had kids, with the parents still in their prime
So, the parents had kids at about the same time
The result: (no, this is not a story that I would ever plant)
Was a nephew older than his uncle or with a crush on his aunt
The niece would then marry her uncle, and the resultant offspring
Had an existential crisis that would make my feeble brain ring.

The resultant offspring (RO, for short) would sneak out for a smoke
With the nephew who was also his uncle (now, isn’t this simply woke?!)
And while they were off on their surreptitious, nocturnal roam
Another little kid would be born in that labyrinthine family home.

You never knew who was whom and how that whom was who
Uncles, aunts, nephews and nieces in an inverted family stew.
(inverted family stew? Does that make any sense?
Writing poetry does make you a trifle sour and dense)
RO would marry his niece, who was the aunt to RO’s cousin
At which wedding, more permutations were sealed (above the musical din).

The first-gen parents – (FG, for short) – who had initiated it all
Would watch with benign eyes at this homo sapien windfall
And while this Chaos ran amok in the middle of a madhouse melee
They would quietly add another kid to this contorted family tree.

ps: 
A crucial insight this (and I am not even kidding, my friend)
Aha! Now, that is a pun that I reserved for this ditty’s sordid end.