So apparently The Poet isn’t the only one who’s felt inspired by me. I recently received this poem by “South Dakota” in my OkCupid box and when I didn’t respond in a timely fashion, he emailed it to me, along with the preceding note to his friend Steve, who he believes might be a good match for me.
It has a certain tang of bitterness and I’m not quite sure why. It’s obvious that he’s read my blog and I will assume that he doesn’t approve…of me or my lifestyle. He’s careful not to out-and-out judge but the judgement is there nevertheless. In our private correspondence he’s asked about Burning Man and seems skeptical that people aren’t all there for “the ritual,” as though it’s some Wiccan sex-fest. Which I suppose it is, for a specific slice of the burning demographic. Anyway:
What do you think about this poem that I wrote for that girl that I emailed you about sometime back to your OkCupid mailbox. Yeah, the one that matches me zero percent and that is a 71 percent enemy just like you according to their rating system robot, the one Mary and I were joking about setting you up with, if she ever did get around to telling you, since Abby is looking for a guy to come join her in her West Village NY apartment. I sent it to her but she hasn’t commented yet, she’ll probably like it, but she may want to slap me! lol
A Sweet Saturday Poem For Abby, by TK
Written June eighteenth, Twenty-Eleven
Life is an exhausting afterparty:
Butter and mayonnaise with crusts cut off,
You want a little? I will give you some
Frosting of my already tasty cake.
Knock, a steady stream of gentlemen knock,
Go away boy-toy, I’m no longer young,
Sheesh, ya wippersnapper, go somewhere else;
I am more than a Mommy fantasy.
Please forgive my extreme navel gazing;
Where now are all the lovers on my list?
I’ve been mulling this over and over,
Friends are just lovers without all the sex.
Salivating seniors with wrinkled paws,
Bwahahaha, I’m available, not!
Older or fatter or starting to bald?
Not wanting to settle, up turns my nose.
Drinking and tanning were part of my life,
Rollar skating is my lovely fetish,
Star Spangle Banner chokes me up inside,
I don’t feel so terribly fetching lately.
Kiss me oh tall hairy toothy giant,
Love me sublime one, oh perfect someone,
Be faithful to me, I’m your sex goddess,
Celebrate with me now and feel my pain.
I love Burning Man loves your inner slut,
I volunteer, my eye is on the crew,
I worked my ass for free, but not for pay,
Forget your troubles, just party with me.
Hot dogs and burgers and bright-eyed newbies,
I’m in a great mood, not a smidge of snark,
Look at my corset and high-heeled boots,
The place is packed and people jam the mic.
Familiar faces wore my pajamas,
Release me from this sick hypnotic spell,
Thankyouverymuch it’s time to go home,
Pray for me cuz I’m trying to find love.
I’m not your wife and I’m not your girlfriend,
Would rather die on an island alone,
Than bend the knee and merge my heart with thine,
I’m told I’m hot and sexy all the time.
We play spin-the-bottle and truth or dare,
Passion and reason and games of the heart,
I pray for someone who will love me back,
Life is what’s left when we get done crying.
Out there somewhere is the man of my dreams,
Forever to love and never to part,
I yearn to know when at long last we’ll we meet,
Teach me sweet muse how to look at the heart.
And my response:
I hadn’t responded because I was out enjoying the summer sunshine, the Mermaid Parade and, well, you know….being hot and sexy!
I’m not sure I’d call it a “sweet” poem. It has a healthy measure of bile in it. I wonder why you sound so bitter.
And who is this Steven person? Do you think we’d be a 70% + match? Wink.
Anyway, I see that you’ve taken some time with this, so I appreciate the effort. Hope you’re cool with me posting it to my blog! Heh.