The computer at Match.com
got it all wrong: He was attracted
to me because of my old picture
as a model in the rotogravure
that revealed my prominent bosoms
and buns of steel—I liked him
because he was a CPA, had a job at the IRS,
and always had a smile on his face.

After we married, I learned it was GERD.
He had an explosive temper
when I bought any clothes at
Nordstroms or Bloomingdales—
if there was a rock nearby
he could have bashed in my head.

He demanded I only shop at yard sales,
Good Will or the Salvation Army.
He was extremely introverted,
not well socialized, and never had a friend.
He lacked empathy for people’s feelings—
especially my feelings.

As a psychologist, I assumed he was autistic
and planned to annul our marriage
when suddenly he had a Myocardial infarction.
He was obsessed with the Stock Market—
President of a local Investment Club.

He focused on an obscure Omaha man
who must have made him a ton of money.
It was only after he died that I learned
he left me so many millions, I was told
to develop a foundation to give it away.
At the autopsy, I had his genome mapped
and discovered his DNA was over 50%