Oh my wife, it is come now
In this fell world
It comes, coruscating and wild
The day we celebrate your birth
Again. Darling, you are
Thirty-six

And you are still some prime beef, baby.

Beef--if you will indulge me--benefits
From aging; we know this.
And you have certainly aged. Thirty-six
Is damned old.

I have so many visions
For the morrow
A balloon-ride where we may
Jape at the sullen clouds

And later a host of acrobats to delight
As they pirouette and prance
For your pleasure whilst you sit
On a throne made from finest damask
And lace
And velvet
And human leg bones, which I think is a jaunty touch.

Oh, what visions--horses will laugh
With delight as they gallop before you,
Carrying balladeers who will sing of
Your grace, your beauty, your
Splendid rack; scribes will write it all down--
The spectacle, in finest prose captured, preserving it
Forever, to remember, unless you are stricken
With Alzheimer's.

All this I would willingly give to you, my love--
But alas, I have not the means, which
You well know; You remember, wife,
How I blew it all on the ponies.

But I do, humbly, and with devotion, what I can,
Love--
So love me too, tomorrow, on your day, when our
Honda chariot arrives at Sizzler, and I will
Look into your quiet eyes, and I will think
How I love this woman--
How I love her--
How I hope she does not order lobster.

And, sated, we will go further into the night
To the lantern-show, where magic is painted on the walls
In Light! As if lit by divine flame, a story told in flickers:
Seed of Chucky.

After, when the night is deepening, Ah . . .
We will sit upon a happy hillock
Under the adoring gaze of the Stars
Leaning in, taking solace in our
Company, and laughing, laughing
As we throw stones at the
Promise Keepers who are in town.

You afford me too much, dear, and
Here again you allow me my indulgences;
I do enjoy my jests after all.
And yet--

You are thirty-six, my Love, and in truth
I am very close behind you; a race
That I never wish to win or lose, but merely
Hope to keep running, tirelessly, gaily--

Oh, I never want to stop running with you.