Friday, July 5, 2013

Your Wedding

I always imagined your wedding
Somewhere on a sunny beach or shore
You were always the kind of girl,
Well, the kind of girl who’d wear
A short plain dress, hardly white
With an open bar by the city light
Her colored hair in a silly whirl.

Don’t spend so much money
If it’s only for a single day!
Save the cash for a house,
A jobless loser spouse,
And lots and lots of babies.

No need for the caterer!
We’ll barbecue something up.
No need for a florist when
We’ve got dandelions and buttercups.
No need for a photographer -
Not with cellphones and Instagram.
No need for a table for gifts or cards
When the family’s too poor to give a damn.
No need for a fancy cake
When Betty Crockers will do
No need for a salon appointment
When we can paint your nails, too.
No need for new shoes or purse
Your flip flops will be fine!
No one would see them anyway
While you sit in pain and whine.
No need for a new wedding dress
I saved this one just for you.
And no need for a foolish veil
That the crowd could not see through.

Have a small ceremony
Save the little cash you have
But make sure you invite
Us, of course
His siblings,
His cousins, first and second
All the insane dates
The exes too lest they call
And set fire to the house
His childhood friend he doesn’t talk to
The aunt that hates you
The drunk uncles
The grandparents
The ministers he hasn’t seen since he stopped going
The neighbor you owe a favor to
The ten Facebook friends that overheard and asked
His old coworkers
His new co“work”ers
All the blessed children and their toys

And maybe you should invite some people too.

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