the iron clad pre-nup

i tell everyone,

grabbing them by the arm,

don't get married.

don't do it.

because no one ever said it to me.

no one.

not a parent,

a friend,

an acquaintance.

no uncles

pulling me aside.

no one warned me

that i'd lose

the house, half of my

savings

and earnings, etc.

despite the fact that none

of it was my

fault

when it came to the inevitable

divorce.

my dog didn't even

bark at me

in distress as i put

on the new suit

and shined my shoes.

a boutonniere

in my lapel.

so now, i'm the town crier.

i'm on the street

corner.

i'm in front of the Bridal

Shop,

i'm at the bachelor

parites

coming out of the cake,

standing on the bar,

screaming, stop

the madness, don't do it.

don't make a business

contract

based on an emotion,

don't make 

this irrevocable mistake.

and if you can't

turn back because the invitations

are in the mail.

have an iron clad

pre-nup.

a free pass

to get yourself out of jail.