Warning, I do believe that biking to work in this heat (all week the heat index over 100) has cooked my brain, let alone my funny bone. Ergo, read the ‘poem’ below with caution as it is snarky and without tactful humour. Inspired, in part, by a recent New Yorker article about the online dating scene. Ghastly, just ghastly, but it allowed me to have a bit of fun.
would confess amidst lines of “A hand to hold” or a
“Lug to love”. Please! What of love (I use That word loosely)
according to the New Yorker, an online smorgasboard,
a virtual buffet of mystery meet, their date of expiration
constantly changin’. Love the skin you’re in, or is it browning
to leather; but, don’t you wear it well according to that
ten-years-gone picture; forty, really, or is it time to retire
What of fate when the date comes via eBay, you won,
(or did he) highest bullshitter. Human merchandising gone
vulgar, a shirtless muscled machismo profile pic (Photoshop, I know)
on top that chrome dressed hog, so innocent with that smirk
and quote, “I like dogs”. And, I do, but I am no fool and refuse
to fall for that line regarding “A lifetime of memories to behold”.
Be Bold! Tell me you just swiped the hive looking for honey; a B….,
a bee,(a queen, indeed) will be less likely to be a drone if you just
be honest when you say, “Just seeking friendship(and perhaps a lay)”.