He gave her bits of unused love
Like spare change from his pocket
And like the barefoot churchstep woman
She snatched it because she knew it would get her through the day.
He made her laugh
Drawing pub pints
The celtic lilt
Floating her name
On dense Guiness clouds.
She asked for so little.
It was a marriage made in confidence
A marriage of convenience
A marriage of the minds
A marriage made to unmaiden
The proud parents vacant gaze.
What happened to the church wedding?
Aunt Flora could not come anyway.
She had to stay home and recall Uncle Aiden
Feeding the republic fresh tiled counters and flake board walls
He donated his lower back to the national cause
the stone cold heart buried long ago.
At least it was American soil.
But this land is for the living and American wives are so pricey.
He shoves his cock between her legs hoping it will be enough.
She grits her teeth.
The green card is in the mail.
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