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Melanie: Why would you want to marry me for, anyhow?
Jake: So I can kiss you anytime I want.
Sweet Home Alabama
See Rodin’s sculpture, sumptuous or a stiff on the shelf.
I have to inquire about the development of their hot lips.
Oh have I a story to tell the young - one about myself,
the happenstance as our nuptial sun and moon eclipse.
We avow in front of witnesses at the Beach’s square.
Behind our backs, windows speaking, “Don’t do it!”
The prisoners wear black and white stripes, bars stare,
still they believe in forever after, happily or despite it.
The Kiss, romantic bliss, a formidable honeymoon thrill.
Two bodies encapsulated into one pill, happy or bitter.
Naked for all to see, plastered over the waves, his will
of handsy regret or not, inspire of modern day twitter.
I’m in my wedding-white gown, contrast of a shotgun —
Dad’s not trying to marry me off and I’m not from the hills.
Regardless, the cake and wine awaits in the Virginia sun.
I repeat the words from the Justice of the peace, the untils.
An eventual kiss in sight…oh what Rodin has in mind!
Would he be proud of my dad, when my espoused asked,
“Can I trust her to drive?” …the response, curt and unkind,
“I don’t know. I trusted her when she left.” Dad unmasked.
My to-be wears his Navy cap, concealing his eyes.
Terrified that my parents had arrived and their camper.
Side-by-side sister-in-laws, sizing them up would be wise.
In what possible way could Rodin create mischief…tamper?
The moment arrived…. “You may kiss the bride.”
The jailbirds whistled and their hand claps echoed.
Between the eclipse of the sun and the moon, it’s slide,
vibrations of laughter we would carry over the threshold.
Contest: FUNNY MEMORIES
Sponsor: Natasha L Scragg
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2022
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