Ugh, you boys. You marry,
you take the wife that is given to you –
she gets married and is your gift.

Well, I think your breath tastes like brass
and was embalmed by a penny.
I think you like your greed.

You think the woman, like coins,
should be aplenty.

Perhaps you could tie me
in a big old rubber band but in any case,
I will not happily give you my hand.

Ugh, you boys.
Why couldn’t you be granted to me?

I deserve an object, too.