I Mean, Really Poem by Sandra Osborne

I heard it was shocking…
I mean, really, a bachelor party,
WITH DEMOCRATS! ! (and I am one!)
I mean, really, they have a donkey for a mascot,
for God sakes.
And shameful, sinful, wicked, I mean,
pot smoking, or at least I heard they had cigarettes,
and then there were all those lude comments
about Sally Fields,
I mean, really, she was the Flying Nun,
for God sakes.

I mean, if the 'wed to be', the male one that is,
would just remember, that once, more than once,
as a helpless, cuddly, littly baby boy
he suckled on his own mother’s breasts,
and that that was only breakfast,
then, maybe, just maybe,
he’ll sober up that morning,
the next morning, the morning of all mornings,
and see that marriage is forever,
and will be so finally filled with so much joy,
that he will know, I mean
really, really know...
That the party hasn’t even started...
Then He will finally get it.

I mean, really,
that’s what the honeymoon is for.