Let’s Get Married
The dishes are chipped,
The glasses mismatched.
Our napkins are worn to shreds.
We’d been in a funk
Over ugly old junk
When a notion popped into our heads.
Let’s get married, I said,
Thinking ahead
Of china and crystal and brass.
We’ll get great gifts galore,
Live like Zsa Zsa Gabor.
Friends will think that we’re really high class.
My true love agreed.
It was a done deed,
Except for one glitch, of course.
Before we could head
Down the aisle to wed,
We’d have to get a divorce.
Cynthia Washam is a South Florida medical writer and substitute teacher who dreams of making a living writing nothing but funny essays and poems. She lives with her husband, Bob, who’s an endless source of comic material.