A Bridge of Asses

At Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Kerry posted a Sunday prompt, whereby the clever can write a Tetractys, with a rhyme scheme I cant summon the brain power to replicate here. So I will try Option Two: to write free verse about The Bridge of Asses, a topic which sprang fully formed in my brain the minute I read the title.  It is actually to do with Euclidian geometry, and isosceles triangles, whereby the angles at the base equal one another. Not in my world.


They stand at intervals
along the Bridge of Asses:
the chauvinist,
the alcoholic con man,
the rageaholic
and the true love
who was, unfortunately,
also a commitment-phobe.


One of them wears
a scowl,
surveys the list of essential needs,
and crosses out feminine products
because a wife can always
"make do."
'"Women are for
cooking and cleaning,
and they're all crazy,"
he tells his ten year old son.
For certain, his wife
was crazy -
till she left him.


One wears
a large leather Mexican hat
and a  leer.
(Someone please hand him a beer.
And a match,
so he can burn down
her store
for the insurance money,
then split.)


The rageaholic
blames his rage
on his missing leg.
This begs for pity which,
after a time,
makes you want
to say "Get over it
and see what you have,
not what you lack"
but of course
you cant,
and soon 
he is lacking you, too.


The one who was
her one true love
was a beauty,
a pain-dark soul
who longed to fly.
She promised 
to love him forever,
and did.
But unfortunately
he could not be happy
with one woman
"when there are so many others
out there" he needed
to explore.


The angles
on each of these 
isosceles triangles
were never equal.
The one who felt
she was lacking
was not.
But it took a long stint
of being alone, and whole
and happy
to figure this out.


Okay, I admit I had fun with this. A poet's revenge: writing about them, later. (My ex never looked more horrified than the day I threatened to expose him in print:)) A caveat: I do know, personally, and have met and read about so many more very beautiful, compassionate, wonderful men. They are all married to Somebody Else. Go figure. But it is heartening to know that they exist.