My Old Man

My sister thinks she’s special

Because now she’s had

A wedding

She’s had a wedding

And I went

And the chicken was dry

But according to her

It was perfect

The whole thing

And I’m the one

Who should be feeling

All kinds of ways

About how I’m living

And who I’m living with

I don’t need her opinions

Her and her dry chicken

Her canned vegetables

And her maid of honor

Who wasn’t me

Because I wanted--

I wanted nothing to do with it

Her maid of honor

Stands up and gives a toast

To my sister

And her new husband

The guy I’m with?

I couldn’t even bring him

Didn’t even get a plus one

Because my sister says

We’re not all that serious

Like she knows all about

What’s serious and what isn’t

I’m serious as a heart attack

About my old man

And I go around telling people

We’re never getting married

He doesn’t tell people that

I tell ‘em that

Because what’s it mean

To be married?

It means you do it once

Twice, three times

My sister?

This is time number four

I shit you not

Fourth time

And she’s still got the white dress on

And the bad chicken
And the drunk best friend

Talking about how perfect she

And Guy #4 are together

It’s all one big lie

I don’t need a lie

I need a guy

My guy

The one who sticks with me

Because nobody’s telling

He has to

And if one day

He doesn’t want to

We won’t need to go see

Any lawyers

Or mediators

To split up all our shit

And rip each other’s faces off

Who wants that?

Every night, we sit on the couch

I put my head in his lap

And he runs his hands

Through my hair

And he sings to me

With the most beautiful voice

You’ve ever heard

You ever date a man

With a beautiful voice?

It’ll change your whole damn life

The last man I was with

Had everything going for him

But at night

When we were on the couch

There was two feet between us

And I couldn’t tell you

How many times he touched me

With the intention

Of making me feel good

And only that

And he couldn’t sing

This man has a lot less

Than the last man

But he’s my man

Because for him, it’s me

And for me, it’s him

And I’m not a poet

So I can’t explain it

Any better than that

You’re never going to see us

Sitting at a big table

Watching all our friends and family

Eating bad chicken

And you might never hear him sing

But you trust me

He can sing

And until you hear it

You’ll never know

How badly

You needed to