Marry me, Mary May, I only ask twice!

I saw it flying on a banner behind a plane
over our school assembly, held every Monday
on our basketball court outside.
It circled our school several times, slowly
impressing its giant, sky-laden letters upon us.
I was 8 and my teacher was Miss Kelly and
she burst into scarlet and dashed inside.
I learnt two things that day.

1) Miss Kelly's Real Name was Mary May. This was silly.

2) Miss Kelly had got Proposed To. It cost $300.
A man wanted to marry her and he was asking for the second time, the
final time. But I knew,

I knew even then
that the man had been lying, had been
fooling himself across the clouds.

I knew he would have asked her again tomorrow,
closing the door behind him.
I knew he would have asked her again each night,
a prayer whispered as she closed her eyes.
I knew there would never be a lettered sky
that was big enough for Miss Mary May Kelly,
blubbering to him on the phone with
yes yes yes.