The gullible female between eighteen
And sixty-five has instant recourse to
The plentitudes of web and magazine
Sagacities:—He’s Really Into You . . .
Or Is He? screams a headline;—but, alas,
As I’m not in that demographic group,
I’ll add my own bullshit to my own sass
And me advise if I should bawl or whoop:
If “Did you, L, on dates, think just of me?”
“Are you composing poems for me still?”
“Don’t worry!” and “One-woman man!” cries he,
Then—(rosy findings, heart, I shall distill!)—
He’s into you,—just doesn’t know it yet.
Next up:—Is Your Intelligence a Threat?
I once, naive, let others choose for me;—
Now I’m directing my own classic flick:—
I climbed your steps, picked my philosophy—
And hoped that sovereignty would do the trick.
Since this one—costar—ain’t no horror film,
I checked my head was screwed on super tight:—
I’m yours, I’d hint, but only if you will
Be mine;—if not, let’s just get laid tonight.
This was a documentary, I thought,
In which a tough gal tries to catch a fish
But, boringly, is never wholly caught,—
Till softened you the light—all dramaish!—
And sang, “I’m taking down my profiles, k?”
I—spotlit, doelike—had no lines to say!
Liza Achilles is a writer/editor in the Washington, DC, area. She is published in the Washington Independent Review of Books, the Silent Book Club blog, Beltway Poetry Quarterly, The Headlight Review, and Tofu Ink Arts Press. The focus of her blog (lizaachilles.com) is seeking wisdom through books and elsewhere.