If I had married a more traditional man,
comfortable in suits and ties,
a man who’d shake my father’s hand,
a mensch for my parents’ sake.
I dated Ken dressed in polyester green
who boasted about a medical career.
Smart, handsome, polite and kind,
but not the man for me.
I initially liked the baby-faced guy
except for a slight macho flaw:
He’d ram his car into construction site cones.
Definitely not for me.
I did like Mel who slicked back his hair,
looked like a rock ‘n roll star.
Sexy and built but whined when he spoke.
He wasn’t IT man for me.
I loved the rebellious Rabbi’s son
who lived in a hippy commune.
His kisses were heaven but he wanted more—
I wouldn’t put out for him.
Lenny serenaded with Sinatra tunes,
corny and much too reserved.
He couldn’t be seduced, as much as I tried—
Too much heat for him.
My mother disliked the man I chose
who wore jeans and army fatigues.
He hugged like a bear, squeezed like a vise—
she feared that I couldn’t breathe.
Date: 2016
By: Norma Ketzis Bernstock (19??- )