Nearly A Union In Italy. Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

Do you Geoffrey take Miss Keglavich
To be your lawful wedded vodka
To have and to hold
For better or worse than worse
To honour and obey To love and devour
To dance to the end of emptiness
To caress and hold
On dark stormy nights
To cherish and love till death
Do you part?

-I DO-

Is there anyone here who has
An objection to this union?
Speak now or forever
Hold your glass

At first it was quiet and then…

'Yes I do object and greatly'
Hissed the angry grey goose
'And what about me? '
Yelled Madam Smirnoff
'Passed my use by date am I? '
'You bloody horrible man'
'I object too'
Interjected Miss Absolute
The previous mistress
Then came the voice of
The veiled stranger sitting alone
At the rear
Mz Belvedere someone whispered
'String him up, the low two timer'
She hissed.

Geoffrey looked around
Looked again like a
Desperate man
He fingered his collar, he sweated
Caught somewhere between
A rock and an empty bottle.