Wrapped primly in pencil colored
braided belts that cinched the waist
of her bedsheet wedding dress
She marched solemnly down the cellblock
on the arm of her best girl,
Tampons dangled from her ears.
Her train dust-mopped the polished floor,
"Nassau County Jail" imprinted on the hem
like a designer label. Her intended stood
before a spectacled inmate holding
a book-prop under her arm and watched
with hair greased and ducktailed.
Immaculate in fresh county greens--
mattress creased and pantlegs pegged.
The bride stopped beside her wife to be--
smiled as the book opened--service began.
Vows said. Gold tin foil rings exchanged.
They kissed and many rejoiced.
Guards passed with eyes averted, smirks
on their faces. After all, both women were
upstate bound for a long, long time,
so made a commitment before committed.
Amid a shower of tissues, torn napkins
and coveted rice--they entered their
blanketed honeymoon cell,
made beautiful with paper towel flowers
rubbed generously
with men's spice deodorant.
The metal bunk waited, lavishly piled
with three one-inch thick mattresses
and baby powdered Linens. At that point,
the Flowers ... the Mattresses ... the Linens ...
I decided this would be an excellent time
to get some shut eye.
