Four Wives Tale

Four Wives Tale

We dated for two months. She lived three streets down, on a cul de sac.

I have to admit I was quite fond of her receding hairline.
She sketched a full set of bangs with a Sharpie.

We dated for one month. She lived two blocks away on a street with three zip codes.

She wrote me notes. Put them in my shoes. More than a few of them were written on condom box tops. Infidel!!

We dated for five months. She was four years older  and maintained golden highlights in her afro.

Nobody appreciates a man with loose skin hanging from his elbows. People have no idea how bad the side effects of political pandering can be.

We dated for a while. I can’t remember how
long. She lived in my building. One flight up.

She told me about her gypsy family. They danced under a crescent moon. There was always a tambourine by our bed.

Thank you baby for being so understanding.
I know the gun you pointed at my head was loaded. But you love me too much.

We’d been dating for two months when she told me she was three months pregnant.

She could not resist Warhol. At the club she bought him one vodka and cranberry after another until he painted her.

We’d dated for five years in six different
countries until we decided to leave Greece.

My second wife was three inches taller than
my third wife and delivered my first wife’s babies.

When the twins were five we took them to a magic act. The blind magician made fear disappear and pulled sacrifices out of a hat.

My fourth wife was twenty years younger
than my third and caught little clouds in a jar.

I don’t know if I learned much at all during
four marriages. Is that a problem? I’ll tell you

something. When I sold vacuum cleaners
& drank moonshine, all my brides sang beautifully.

I don’t recall a single argument that resulted in jail time. How strange it must have been for them.

Sleeping with a height-challenged man-pillow, stuffed with carelessness, shapeless, silent &

soft like cotton, subject to puff & pawing, whose sole purpose in life was to finally turn the corner.  

Fast forward.

We dated remotely for ten years, eight thousand miles apart. A perfect distance
to feel the rain on my heart without a fifth vow.