Oy Gevalt - Moi Ongepatchket Married Life!
Once thy future spouse (Abby Zison)
found herself in the family way
(what would be the first
of our two daughters – i do say
determined and sealed the decision
per our rolling in the figurative hay
this schlimielto wed said mother of thine deux
female progeny on an agreed upon day.
Both of us happened to be older
grown offspring at ten times thrice
approximately three plus decades to be generally
precise our fate sealed no clay dice.
Said age difference
(a year and a half between us two),
and miserably living with parents,
which o’er the years rancor grew.
I agreed to pledge
my troth on premise this writer
(christened Matthew Harris)
aka king o one scott the lighter
found himself in the throes
becoming potential mister mom)
seminal striver Darwinian fighter.
Since neither of us took precautions
and thru caution to the wind
the inevitable (i.e. a so called
bun in the oven) nonetheless
tasting supposed verboten fruits
branded us as sinned
took us by Noah surprise and,
got us necessarily biologically pinned.
Even though a decision to tie
gordian knot (more like a noose)
per donning the role of future father
tightened and n’er got loose
an inner conflict jostled thine inner being
against forming a legal wedded union – the deus.
Prior to taking legal vow
to be husband and wife
until death didst part us before justice of the peace
(which building matter of fact, hapt to be
a hopper, skipper and jumper
from where this seat experienced posterior strife
because gluteus maximus constituted bony arse
as if cut by a knife
matrimonial bliss seemed like a pipe dream
in subsequent years only to spiral
into a maelstrom of some chaotic life.
In truth, the prospect to marry
in general mills aforementioned gal in particular
hardly filled yours truly with giddy excitement
but a decision this troubadour
wished to defer and tarry.
Passive agreement to acquiesce
by saying meekly parroting necessary “I do”
per impregnating the woman named above
transpired until her belly grew
swollen with Eden Liat thy current star student
at time of this writing (xx+ Earth Orbitz ago)
twas sound asleep –
counting sheep lined up in a queue
yet lately personal state of affairs
I chronically rue
immersing self reminiscing yesteryear
and wonder why passivity
elected as way to escape
utter aversion living
with dad and (thy late) mom
cooking in boiling can a bull stew.
Predilection to play Russian roulette
by avoiding any safe sexual mode
to avoid unplanned pregnancy
shrugged atlas off while
spermatozoa adhered to reproductive code,
which absence to avoid using birth control arose
as a natural propensity
to propitiate, produce, procreate
natural urges did goad.
Now, less joy de vivre doth prevail
to remain monogamous
and uphold strictures from this male
fidelity, integrity morality, et cetera
buts ahead without fail
from rampant testosterone urge
to become appeased, fulfilled, satiated
no matter this deux dozen plus year bride
and groom blindly entered
the unalterable sacred covenant
whence sexual need now does ail.
After the birth of daughter
numero dos did arrive
the preponderance of physical gratification
took kamikaze nose dive
seeks special care toward Semetic lass
for long lasting marriage and love to strive.