The Devil You Don't

by Erik Donald France

 

I'm the best man.
The groom is getting married for the third time.
I sleep with his married sister
While my second wife is passed out in another room
From too much tequila again.
I pine for my shimmery new love in Detroit
Imagining how she'll be if
We finally get to sleep together.

I ask the sister her opinion.
She says, weigh the devil you know
With the devil you don't,
And I say yeah, but the devil I don't
Is a whole lot hotter than the devil I'm married to.
Meanwhile, she asks,
Do you have any more condoms?

The bride is drunk and smoking:
By all standards the most fascinating of the groom's brides.
I give the best toast yet.
Life is weirder every passing year.

The next day,
We all stand around
At the actual ceremony
At a place called Thompson's Orphanage
Thinking about
That letter from Saint Paul
As it's read by the minister, earnestly.
And then we shift our poses,
Suddenly wanting to look sweet and good
For the photographers.

© 2005 Erik Donald France

Erik Donald France has lived most of his life in North Carolina. He has taught writing, poetry, literature, history and Latin American Studies at various colleges and high schools and worked as an archivist and librarian in North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Michigan. He currently resides in Metro Detroit, where he's working on a historical biography, poetry, fiction, and, as editor, a book on censorship.