mmmmxciv

Artsy Fartsy Wedding Party

Aloysius does the dishes.
Marcia McAfferty’s looking
quite pretty. And our dear
friend Benjamin’s gotten
himself his usual, a latté
generously sprinkled with

cinnamon. Cory doesn’t
have a worry in the world
this fine morning; he walks
to work thinking of his night
with Taffeta Loring, with whom,
of late, he’s racked up a quite

generous amount of scoring.
Nothing at all seems boring
in the town of Turnbull, at
least until Ms. Trimble finds
herself slightly off-center
thanks to a mild temblor.

But she’s not fretting. For
tonight’s her wedding.
After school, like a fool,
this regular substitute
teacher and her beau,
Mr. McFletcher, who’s a

Professor at the University
of Northwestern will head
directly to the home of their

pastor (the Reverend Astor),
and wow, in wedding
attire so stunning that

Reverend Astor’s tick,
his nervous humming
(you should catch him
when he sings, it’s quite
the thing when he’s alone
at home, his thick baritone

is syrupy slick, and with that
comes cunningly imaginative
lyrics; Astor was once con
sidered a stock but adroit
poet back in college, which,
wouldn’t you know it, was a

relatively unknown college
in Detroit, the name of which

is – oh, I forget it,  – ). And 

yet, you bet that I and all 

of the the cool people of Turn
bull are giddy for the spectacle

of the town’s most renowned 

wedding of the year, there’s no 

doom nor gloom here, for the 

citizens are astir as they whir
about gleefully anticipating the 

betrothal of Mr. McFletcher and
Ms. Trimble. Darlene Decatur,
the Astors’ neighbor and local
interior decorator has the Rev’s
rooms so splendidly abloom that
all of Turnbull’ll remember, and

with pride and with splendor,
the soon-to-be marriage, in
the good Reverend Alister
Astor’s flawlessly decorated
living room (thematically hued
in Ms. Trimble’s favorite blues),

of Turnbull’s beloved betrothed:
the Honorable Hector McFletcher
and the inimitable Maribel Trimble.