The magazine rejected my poems consistently for about a decade, then finally caved and published a couple in the Spring/Summer 2011 issue. (You don't suppose that's what did John in?) As we used to say in the funeral Masses at which I served in my long-ago altar boy days, let perpetual Light shine upon him.
If Girl
If you can keep your wit and charm at double
The quantity you see himself display,
And stifle your chagrin when he can’t trouble
To listen to those girlish things you say,
If you can cook a lavish gourmet dinner,
Then nibble it to keep your figure slim,
If, whether he is playing saint or sinner,
Your home is always paradise for him,
If you can be both duchess and sex bunny
Serene and gracious, yet va-va-va-voomy,
If you can laugh when his jokes aren’t that funny,
And never let him sense when you feel gloomy,
If you don’t pester him with your opinion,
But practice siren wiles to lure and haunt him,
If you are less a partner than a minion,
He’s yours for life. On those terms, do you want him?
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