After the Proposal
"This is fun," says the kid
throwing grapes at his fake mother.
Then the beautiful boy and girl
set the chocolate cake on fire.
Then the insects almost
knock down everything in the room.
Then I get a mean email
from my ex-boyfriend.
Then my honeymoon hotel implodes.
Then my tumor is benign.
Then the library is canceled
on account of snow. Then
we throw a lot of grapes around
and snow-covered trees grow out of
the icy garbage-strewn sidewalks and
the phone rings and it's my true love and he's
insisting that it's all true, that he is going to marry me
and the planet is going to keep floating off into outer space
If you've any comments on this poem, Jessy
Randall would be pleased to hear