Missed (Non) Connections

You approached me.

Or I approached you.

Who knows?

As these things often go:

there was at least a moderate level

of drunkenness involved.

Me: the guy

your friends warily eyed

as we laughed and drank shots of well-whiskey.

You:  every little girl

who has ever seen the glimmer of lust in my eye

or been bestowed with the silver-plated riddle that is

my conversation. You walked away with a kick in

your step and cast a knowing smile over your shoulder.

Perhaps I was too inebriated to say this then

but now I am not

and I’d like to utilize this medium

to indicate your mistake:

 

Do not believe

that my expression of rudimentary affection

is some sort of attempt to tame you,

nor is it an indication that

I myself

am somehow tamed by you

through this so-called expression of affection.

My communicating that you

engender pleasant thoughts in my mind,

is just that,

and not an indication of connection nor want of connection.

I believe you’ve made a fundamentally egotistical mistake:

Do you attribute

a sense of desire and love (and weakness)

to the sun for it’s role in your survival?

Do not mistake

an object’s most base nature

with

attraction for yourself

just because

you find that object’s arbitrary nature

to be favorable.

Neither should you

mistake the collision of your world

and another’s

as an attempt to merge.

Perception of a feeling is not proof of its existence.

Beauty and its ability to foster love

is truly the most enduring myth.

 

(Editor’s Note:  according to the author, this “poem” (which, let the record show, I believe to be clandestinely misogynistic; a claim he refutes) is a rough outline of a dream, which like most dreams had immediately begun fading upon consciousness, but having retained a few key elements despite the mischief of his memory, he was able to recognize the so-called “medium” of said dream as being somehow linked to that popular website – of barter and resale and human miscellanea – known as Craigslist; specifically the section titled: Missed Connections. And so he “uncharacteristically” and “whimsically” (the author’s words) decided to scan the recent pages of Missed Connections for a uh connection. Again, according to the author, he found this posting buried deep in the prior days’ posts and knew it for his dream when he saw it. He was wary of posting it as his own work for the possible guilt of plagiarism it may inspire, but obviously he ultimately decided to publish the pre-mentioned “poem” after I asked him this: if a man cannot lay claim to his own dreams, what can he be said to truly possess? Let it be known, that I am of the opinion the question is unanswerable. A riddle at best. Apparently he took this rhetoric as an absolving of any wrongdoing on his part. And so it is.  -G.M.-)

 

By A.M.

(Drugs and Culture)

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