Saturday, November 14, 2020

How Creative Types Break Off a Date

The ennui has settled over me

And so I must

Once again

Allow my fingers

To summon a change

That neither of us

Was anticipating


I must sever the plans

We had for this evening


I don’t know how

Things shifted

So rapidly

From the enthusiasm I felt

When first I put you

In my calendar a la Google


Who’s to say

Why my spirit dampened

At the thought

Of putting on clothes

And removing myself

From my chaise


Bathing so that I may look

Presentable

To you

Possible, future love o’ mine


The hair atop my head

Is in no shape

To be shown

Or shorn

But simply to be hatted

And trotted out

To some casual

Such as coffee


I should have known

Such would be

The case

And yet

I asked you to dinner

At an eatery

That serves rice

Next to meat

And that requires

A greater effort

On my part


An effort

I cannot bring myself

To bring forth


O ye, if only

I could speak

With my younger self


My self from two days ago


The self who thought

That dinner and drinks

Would be great fun

Without realizing

It would require

Me leaving work

With any gumption left

In my tank


Even as I was

Crossing my threshold

I believed myself

To be ready

To color the metropolis

With reds and off-reds

And slight reds


But then the grave error--


I did but sit

Upon my couch

And turn on

The television


Before I knew it

I had removed my shoes

And what’s more

My socks


I had pulled a blanket

Over me


The yawn that demanded

Its own existence

Won the battle against me

And I began

To scroll through my phone

And think how lovely it would be

To spend the rest of the evening

Reading the thoughts

Of people I don’t know

And don’t care for

As something plays

On the screen in front of me

As I barely pay attention


O possible future love

How could you ever compete

With such an intoxicating evening as that?


As I went to courier you

A digital condolence

It occurred to me

That mayhaps you also

Were reconsidering

Our great engagement

For the evening


I could only hope

As I sent my regrets

That you had your own chaise

And your comforter

And your own phone

Through which

You can see all the fun

Everyone you know

Is having

As you breathe a sigh of relief

Thinking--


My goodness

That could have

Been me

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