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<h1> MEN<br/> I’M NOT MARRIED TO<br/> </h1>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">No matter where my route may lie,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">No matter whither I repair,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In brief—no matter how or why<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Or when I go, the boys are there.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">On lane and byways, street and square,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">On alley, path and avenue,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They seem to spring up everywhere—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The men I am not married to.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I watch them as they pass me by;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">At each in wonderment I stare,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And, “but for heaven’s grace,” I cry,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">“There goes the guy whose name I’d wear!”<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They represent no species rare,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">They walk and talk as others do;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">They’re fair to see—but only fair—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The men I am not married to.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I’m sure that to a mother’s eye<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Is each potentially a bear.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But though at home they rank ace-high,<br/></span>
<span class="i2">No change of heart could I declare.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Yet worry silvers not their hair;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">They deck them not with sprigs of rue.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">It’s curious how they do not care—<br/></span>
<span class="i2">The men I am not married to.<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
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