I never saw you coming 'til you sat on me
If love is project or industry,
marriage may be no less,
but by strange flight, my heart will rise
the day I wear the dress.
All good poets write of artistry
and two hearts twining junction.
My fistful got a willing bet
we won’t make it past the function.
Then again, if history
is to be our shepherd,
there’s every chance, that by first dance
the spots’ll be wiped from the leopard.
‘Cos when we met, all past misdeeds
were put to rightful death,
and something in my stomach knew
I wouldn’t catch a breath -
- without it being needed
to fuel and fan the flame
of the one I had been waiting for:
the wise-ass to my dame.
Oh, how corny! What a gas!
The canary starts to sing
two cynical outsiders
exchanging vows and rings.
Well, ain’t that peachy, darling!
A direct hit from a near-miss.
So, let’s get us on the road to ruin
with some wedded bliss.
This piece is less directed specifically at their relationship, and bent more towards their good humour and practicality when it comes to the requirements of patience and tolerance needed to share domestic space with someone for the rest of your life.
I prefer to think of it as a gentle poke at the grand old institution of marriage. It'd surely be a very long toil without at least a moderate amount of light heartedness!
If that institution has changed my own outlook in any way at all, it’s been by the realisation that:
For the gentleman: the luxury of being able to defer to one’s wife is marvellous for getting out of things you’d rather not do. It bestows a certain gravitas in the way that referring to a partner, girlfriend, other half or occasional-paid-companion can never do (as in: “I’d love to come by and help you jet-wash the decking, old boy, but MY WIFE is having the Delves-Broughtons over for vichyssoise”)
For the lady: while one’s own lovely surname may be kept for ease of continuance at the hairdressers (especially those hairdressing establishments staffed exclusively by technology-shy homosexual males who have no idea how to work the complicated electronic booking system), one’s married name comes in extremely handy for making complaints when one wishes to come across as obstreperously as possible.
One may wish to use the prefix in its uncontracted form for added punch, thus: “Yes, hello? Cutts for Mutts? My name is MISTRESS Anastasia Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe. I’m calling to complain in the strongest possible terms regarding the unacceptable standard of shaving applied to my poor Fanny when I dropped her off on Tuesday”.