When I announce my intentions,
all my older friends laugh, slap me on the back,
and shake their heads with disbelief.
Poets, editors, librarians, even senators,
all share the same disturbing idea that marriage
is hard work, and must be reserved for mature,
educated, responsible adults.
Maybe they’re right, but I won’t soon find out
because they take up a collection, everyone
donating coins to buy me a ticket that they say
will carry me away to another country
where I’ll have to stay until I’m older
and calm.