sarris & anna

The clip-on Yellow Submarine

style John Lennon shades

found in the jockey box

of my mother’s car

after she died, provided

the cover I needed to hide

the streams of tears I shed

watching the likes of these two

young lovers professing

and celebrating their promise

to care for one another

in front of their families today,

and for the life-till-death commitment

of their sisters and brothers,

that full-on crazy-assed

family of friends who dance

and sing down the aisle

behind them Mardi gras style

under a ceiling of bright

blue sky, the aisle being that

parting of the crowd, those

gathered witnesses for these

twinned hearts’ need to proclaim

their decision to walk hand in hand

to the end of the line—that

beginning we don’t understand . . .


So they do it, they cheer,

they dance and sing, they kiss-

celebrate this thing, this vow,

this marriage, a pact

to sail stormy seas together,

weather close quarters, sirens

and morning breath, all hungers,

temptations, tempests, or thirsts—

those old desires to jump ship

and party every port . . . We toast


The dream, to make this moment last,

hold onto the happiness of these

lovestruck fools, the parade of hoots

and smiles, the hugs and laughs—

now that the service is history

(and my first lesbian wedding

is in the books). When I look at

the vine-less trellis, now standing

alone in the meadow, a homemade

latticework archway of sorts,

hung with sheer curtains

and made for the last outdoor

family affair (a cousin’s Christian

marriage: guarded and guided

by traditions and rules). I see

how it provided a backdrop,

a focal point, an opening, a frame,

call it a door for whatever

allusion we choose to see

or ignore, help us . . . to enter

and write an old new-story,

one we can follow back and

forward for thousands of years . . .


And still the breeze wafts

the transparent linens lightly . . .

as it tousled the bride’s blonde

curls earlier when she stood

before us and kissed her bride,

and I leaked beneath the waves

of this sweet green sea, happily

grinning in my Yellow Submarine.

And I believed (because

that’s the way it seemed to me)

God was busy as usual

just letting things be.


—for Sarris & Anna

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