Poet/try

COMPUTER DATE

My dearest new computer mate,

oh yes, I’d like to have a date.

Since they paired us up, you must be

an educated man, and free.

I got your pix–which one is you?

And by the way, what do you do?

“Describe yourself,” you say–Mein gott!

You really put me on the spot!

I’m a genuine human being,

a little nicer than I seem.

I brake for dogs and wreck for cats;

I like long dresses,  gloves and hats,

though sometimes lounge around in jeans.

I joined church while in my teens

and let me say that I am well

aware of how to keep from hell.

No holding hands on our first date

and let me tell you very straight

I drink no booze and smoke no pot.

Computer mate, I am no sot!

But if you’re Christian and you’re good

and make up to me like you should,

I think that in a while we might

just make a pair that’s outta sight!

 

(Previously in Pickin’ Fleas)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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17 Responses to Poet/try

  1. I just wonder how it would be computerdating… all those things you say and what you want in the other… it seems to work sometimes… but do we really know our own requirements? Love the thoughts… BTW i corrected the link on dVerse.. I think this is the poem you wanted to link up.

    Like

  2. Hi! This is my first time here and I am glad to know a woman who knows what they want!! Very well said!

    Like

  3. Wendy Darling says:

    I love this. 🙂

    Like

  4. 🙂 Wonder what kind of response this would get…! Nice flow to this poem.

    Like

  5. Abhra says:

    Ha.. that is such a cool write. Welcome to OLN – thanks for joining us.

    Like

  6. lillian says:

    “I drink no booze and smoke no pot.
    Computer mate, I am no sot!”
    Love these lines. This made me smile. So very glad I am of the generation where we met people face to face…..had to literally ask out loud (in person or via that big black telephone with numbers that dialed) to meet with a person for a date or get together. Computer dating….digital cogitation!

    Like

  7. Bodhirose says:

    This is really cute, thanks for the fun!

    Like

  8. The poem is hilarious!

    Like

  9. It’s kinda bitter sweet to reAlly
    know and feeL therE iSonce
    a now.. wHere theReiS
    too much to say
    and FeeL
    even over
    holding hands
    on a first
    date
    oF beinG human..
    oh.. passion of feeLinGs
    that kNow of Feelings
    more
    than
    touch.. in seeing
    hearing.. smelling..
    tasting Life’s hUman
    inner
    BeinG..
    ah.. true Atheists
    of liFe are those
    without empathy
    and compassion
    for all others
    and the rest
    of ReaL Nature that
    iS God frEE floWinG ZonE..:)

    Like

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