Women envision flowers,
Cakes cutting into the stratosphere,
Dresses flowing for miles,
Bragging rights,
Eternal honeymoon.
Sweat runs from men’s faces,
Pontificating providing,
What comprises his worth,
Passing years,
And the responsibility that
Nuptials require.
Polygamous libido’s raging inferno,
Ever-vigilant gaze,
Descrying vivacious vixens,
Reeking of perfume
Borrowed from Mothers, amalgamated with
Smoke from blown-out candles delineating
Legality.
Compounded with boundless fears of
Termination,
Brought on by
Predictability of solitude and
Gray hairs,
Worsening from the demolition of
Division,
Encumbering future bond formations,
Because of naught but pocket lint
With them.
More than that,
Alcatrazian fortresses
Enclose the heart,
Always seeing women as
Succubi,
Out to drain a man of
Everything.
Dreading this,
And absorbing the realities of
Western government’s
Marital interference
(Contrary to the
Religion matrimony was
Founded on)
Some men convert to Lotharionism,
Forming short allegiances,
Never remaining in a
Singular location,
Fearing immolations
Of their feelings,
All they’ve worked for,
And their emotional
Well-being
While the idea of
Partying,
Fancy clothes,
Food, and
Honeymoon
Surface smiles,
They evanesce as quickly as they
Exist, because of
What may
Follow.
YOU ARE READING
Romantically Incorrect
PoetryBorn, raised, and currently living in Detroit, Michigan, Morgan Coby is a combination of many different things around him: the gritty realities of the city where he dwells, and the wondrous idealism from the fictional worlds of stories, cartoons, an...
