Santa Cruise

at last i meet

her married boyfriend

of seven years.

a white mustache

across his sunburned face.

she calls him piggy,

because of how

pink he is

and he calls her kitty,

because i guess

he reminds her of a cat,

or something.

he's the former water

skiing Santa

of Old Town.

i'm not impressed

as he gives me a fishy

hand shake.

he looks like captain Kangaroo

on a bad day.

fat and sad.

a white belt holds up

his baby blue pants.

he's a former coke head

and the leader of a geezer

band.

still married, he promises

the mistress, my anorexic,

covert narcissistic,

psychopath,

and suicidal fiancé

nearly

everything

as he takes her out on his

new big boat,

the Santa Cruise.

this, this fellow,

this tax cheating adulterous

man is my

competition for her hand?

obviously there's a lot

here, i don't understand.

i've got a bad feeling about

this. help me,

dear lord, help me.