Early Christmas 2002
Paul Cordeiro
My wife serves me divorce papers
as easily as she does breakfast
cereal without emotion and milk.
Thank God I am not the Mayor of Providence.
Cianci finally goes South to jail
rather than South to the usual graceless forced retirement
for seasoned politicos.
My wife says she has not loved
me for two years now and did not have
the courage to tell me she faked care
and orgasms and who knows what else
crimes against decency.
Cianci insists he is innocent of course.
My wife tells everyone she can that I am
a bad tempered brawler
when all I do is pay bills and work senseless
retail hours in hopes
she will come back to her sweet senses.
All is lost of course.
And Cianci has a worst Christmas than I do.
But he is a liar and I am not.
