Unripe: Post Mortem
In the post mortem of their marriage,
The coroner found that she had never recovered
From her woeful childhood,
Deep scars, keloids from her Japanese
Mother, so foreign and passive, and
Her GI father, controlling mean and silent.
And a failed first marriage that she didn’t learn from
And never revealed to her second husband.
She talked to him in babytalk,
Right up to the day she snuck out of his life forever,
Leaving unanswered, unanswerable questions,
Abandoned pets, a stinking mess of a house,
Unpaid and unpayable bills,
A reeking mess of two lives.
He, a sweet man-child, probably a bit spoiled
Baby-of-the-family,
And at the same time a bit neglected by parents
Who had given so much of their energy and youth
To the four older siblings—
He married the first girl to love him, to kiss him,
To hold him under the sheets.
He couldn’t believe his good luck
Which has broken down to
Insane
Bad luck
And lives that need to be boot-strapped.
Is that possible, Lord?
We pray that it may be.
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