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This is a poem I wrote for Janet Reid's flash fiction contest,
for which the theme was:
"If I'd had pearls, I would have been clutching them."
Wedding Belle's Booze
Wedding guests are rich, old, and boozy.
Marooned with the singles, so I can't be choosy.
A long open bar with a miniscule dinner.
We're all drunk and hungry. We've almost become thinner.
The best man's toast is more of a roast.
"May your genitalia never fail ya."
My neighbour, a charming elderly lady,
finds one word obscure. It seems almost shady.
"Dear, what's 'genitalia'?" she said, and I want to drop dead.
But I smile and I shrug and feign ignorance instead.
Copyright 2019, Barbara Etlin, all rights reserved
