To my Loving WNT
When one’s not enough
But four is a crowd
It fills me with glee, to remember
That 10 years ago today,
You wanted to be Wife Number Three.

A Belated Anniversary
It’s a plural life
Having many a wife
So many kids and spouses milling around.
I get forgetful — Please excuse my ways.
I just wanted to say:
A belated anniversary to you today.

To My Latest Wife
My latest wife–and the youngest, yet
So wide-eyed with wonder about our little sect.
Your sister-wives will watch your back,
Although they hope you too will soon be fat.

To My Fourth Wife on Our Anniversary
My wives are many
And that is true
But that shouldn’t make you
Feel so blue.
Mark my words–no seriously, mark them
You bring me happiness like Old Number Two

To One of My Wives on our Anniversary
As the days pass so quickly,
And kids’ cries deafen the day,
We sometimes forget the little things.
Take for example, that I sometimes forget your name.
But on this anniversary of our blessed wed,
I hope to remember where is our bed?

Our Covenant Seal
You are my wife, loving and true
And also my first cousin–tis also true
And our kids look both like me and like you!
On this anniversary of our covenant seal
Please help your sister-wives make us a great big meal!

You are More than a Second Wife to Me
Love is patient and kind
It is not arrogant or rude
Love never ends…
But seriously, don’t you think you could get with the program like your other sister-wives? And what’s with that dress? You think we are on “Little House on the Prairie” or something? Who the hell wears a bonnet these days?

Tormented as he was by a relentless parade of edgy vituperative Catholic nuns during his youth, the author was compelled to employ a ceaseless, painstaking, and excruciating editorial effort to use language that upholds the dignity, honor, and presumed resplendence of all of the peoples of the world—except perhaps nuns themselves and of course, creation scientists.

The author used language free from prejudice, bias, adverbs, and initial caps. A desperately fierce effort was taken to use language inoffensive to every imaginable group, subgroup, virtual group, coven, entity, and population.

No matter how preposterous, self-serving, mythical, or mystical, the author warmly embraces every conceivable precept, philosophy, and perspective of every imaginable group in relation to age, gender, sexual orientation (if any), ethnicity, culture, intelligence, race, color, creed, height, weight, physical malady, psychiatric infirmary, social class, lack of class, odor, ardor, psychic talents, hair density, sexual prowess, or any and all physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual, and psychic strengths, weaknesses, oddities, or curiosities. The author loves you all, unless that it is perceived as offensive by you, in which case he lukewarmly tolerates you—if that’s okay with you, bonehead.

Avoiding a human-centric bias, the author celebrates the richness of the world’s biodiversity and seeks to avoid offending all plants, animals, insects, fungi, microbes, and even as yet unborn and unclassified organisms of every kingdom, phylum, division, class, order, family, genus, and species. We are the world. We are what we eat. Oh, sorry.

To avoid bias toward the living, except when to do so constitutes a public health hazard, the author heartily embraces the dead, people wishing they were dead, and people who believe they are dying but are really suffering from a kind of hypochondriasis, although they are hard to embrace because they have this germ thing going on. In such cases, the author embraces you spiritually, mentally, or metaphorically, as required.

To avoid gender-related biases, this document will use the editorially iniquitous term s/he to refer to both males and females. Individuals of indeterminate or unusual gender as well as children will be referred to as it.