Village Poem

K and I marry on a bench at a bus stop in a village that hasn’t been discovered yet. During our vows K promises all the shipwrecks in the world. She promises an inch is still an in inch and we’ll never get metric. She promises domestication, sharing a shopping cart at the grocery store. It’s romantic, watching K’s white dress turn clear and the bench at a bus stop in a village that hasn’t been discovered yet turn into an air mattress. After, I pretend to be in a spaceship through most of the afternoon. After, a song goes But everyone is just everyone.