But I Wanna Be a Star-Crossed Lover, Too!

A poem of a modern day Shakespeare romantic tragedy.

 

But I Wanna be a Star-Crossed Lover Too

 

There’s something about Bill’s star-crossed lovers theme that I still long for,

it makes me want to get married all over again in a forest somewhere,

a forest that looks like a place Robin Hood and his band of have-nots frequent,

maybe somewhere near the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains

because after our wedding we would go to this neat little place called Taxeco’s.

Margie is our waitress there and she has been serving the best migas

every Sunday morning since I was five,

 

Anyway…

I have a thing for the star-crossed lovers theme and if I could

I would change my husband from Irish to…well…anything but white,

he and I would secretly meet despite my grandma’s dramatic objections and

the repeated story of her having to hide her jewelry in her compact make-up

so the Nazi’s wouldn’t take it as you entered the plane from Austria to America,

ya know- the story that somehow includes a five mile walk through the

harshest of winters, barefoot of course,

 

I and my non-Irish before-he-was-my-husband-pseudo-boyfriend

would only tell our closest of friends,

who would of course understand but inevitably would be murdered,

my dad, having switched from synagogue to a sparkling white Baptist church off the corner of Holierthan and Grace in the state of Mississippi would also object,

yelling profanities with all the Christian-like love in the world.

It would simply be romantic.