Married To Poetry

Ivy Alvarez, fellow poet and blogger, recently made a post titled “I’m engaged!”. Excited, I read on, discovering I’d misconstrued the title of the post, but it left me with the idea of being married to poetry.

(for Ivy Alvarez)

I’m married to Poetry.
We are enjoying the reception
But are too stunned, tired
to remember the nuptials,
Critique and Review, bridesmaids,
are getting drunk, gossiping
loudly about how long
our marriage will last.
On opposite ends of
the bridal table,
Drafts and Editing
swap sly glances.
I don’t approve, but Poetry
has already decided where
the bouquet will be thrown.
A gruff older man,
Open Mike, is giving the
‘father of the bride’ speech.
his early memories of Poetry
make Mike a little teary
In fact, everyone gets a
little emotional
as Poetry and I start
the bridal waltz
We move well, though
Poetry has the better form.
Joining us in pairs,
The crowd dabs their eyes
watching as we whisper
to each other.
We decide what to pack
for the honeymoon.
We complain about
the caterers and the venue.

Reading: “District And Circle” – Seamus Heaney
Listening: “This Year’s Girl” – Elvis Costello