I married Miss America. to win a drunken bet,

she promised high fidelity and nightly crêpe suzette,

but as she said "I Do," I heard the congregation buzz,

eleven hunky football players swore to God "She Does!"

Then as we danced the bridal waltz a college boy cut in,

his eyes were red, his pants were torn, he stunk of home-made gin,

I watched them tango tearfully, as sadness gripped my brain,

but laughed it off with several brimming tumblers of champagne.

The speeches started, how they laughed - the best man was a hit,

he told them of the small tattoo just under her left tit,

her Father stood and swayed, confessing both her boobs were fake,

a bridesmaid nodded knowingly, then threw up on the cake.

The telegrams were read, and smirked their innuendo fun,

her Uncle Amos read them, standing with his fly undone,

a flower girl was curious, and stared into his pants,

her Mother didn't care, continued with her belly dance.

The night wore on, the guests were drunk, the best time of their lives,

the uncles danced with distant kin, forgetting they had wives,

dessert had come and gone: pavlova, pink ice cream and more,

unfortunately most of it was spilled upon the floor.

I tried to catch my new bride's eye, explain the time had come,

but then I saw her fondling a hockey player's bum,

I hissed, but soon I realized things were not the way they seem,

it wasn't him she fancied, no, she wanted the whole team!

We never had our honeymoon - my night of untold bliss,

I blame her drunken relatives for getting on the piss,

it turned out that the priest was fake, he wasn't real at all,

we found out when the chicken dance evolved into a brawl.

I don't know why the coppers came, no-one was being killed,

and I would have to pay for everything that broke, or spilled,

I've spent three months in jail, I haven't been bailed out as yet,

so kids: stay sober, single, straight, and never, ever bet!
 

More of my FUNNY POEMS