Schoolteachers, we talked
the headmaster into letting us
use the dining hall for our reception
and one of the dorms for our hotel.
Our friends were of modest means,
and we didn’t want them
spending money or drinking
and driving. Who knew
that such a frugal solution
would prove convenient
in other ways? You don’t need
Tinder when you have a hallway.
Behind door number 3 is Alecia.
Behind door number 5 is Bob.
Let me interrupt this poem
with an important public
service announcement:
have as much sex as you can
while you’re young because
soon you will be very tired.
You’ll be like Rip Van Winkle
waking up to your partner’s
lovely form and saying,
“Where have you been all
my wife?” Well, we forgot
to arrange for cleanup
and because we were responsible
employees, we stayed
in that dining hall until long
after the guests had left
and started playing
“The Newlywed Game” for us.
(“Where is the strangest place
that you and your husband
have ever made whoopie?”)
It was 4:30 in the morning
when we found our bed.
Where had it been hiding?
I turned to you, my beautiful
bride, my hottie, and said,
“Do you mind if we don’t?”
You paused poignantly,
looked as if you were about
to cry (never underestimate
the male ego), then answered
like some sort of feminist superhero,
“Touch me and I’ll kill you.”
It’s been grand ever since.