Lack of coulda

Didn't post a poem yesterday, so here's one:

It was not because the heavens
didn't shine upon the match
nor for want of indication
that he thought himself a catch.
He was able, he was stable
as a Harvard running back;
of the requisite credentials
there was surely not a lack.
Lack of coulda? Lack of shoulda?
Lack of spermicidal foam? No,
it was just for Lackawanna
that I didn't take him home.

Heather McHugh's Song for the Men of the Pennsylvania Hills.