Monday, April 30, 2012

New Love Stories

The wedding reception was outfitted with the usual diversions –
my new wife was a very wealthy woman
thanks to a late father who had made his money
selling explosives and machine-guns to warlords in central Africa
so that they could paralyze more children with landmines –
And so for us that meant an open bar and a fancy Hollywood DJ.
I was not bothered by her shrill friends,
Or the vows she wrote herself which took an hour to read.

That night we took the jet to her villa outside of Paris
And slow danced to soft jazz music
on the balcony off the master bedroom.
Darling, she purred,
Her breath hot and smelling of expensive wine,
I’m so happy.
And I said, I am too, and
we danced closer to the railing.