the institution of marriage

some stubble never shaves off
his looked like gray sesame seeds
jammed into his wrinkles
as he rattled his ice cubes
watering down a bargain Scotch
hoping to be unconscious
by the time he was to lay
with her
her..
another night to
lay his pounding head
between her ponderous tits
udder-like nipples

another night to
jam his flaccid member
into her saggy cunt
while she drools tutti fruity
rolaids
out of her slack, lipsticked mouth
drawn over its borders
the way old whores do
the ones who pull out their teeth
and gum a cock to submission

another night to
stare longingly at the shotgun
leaning in the corner
and ponder
which load to shoot next