I
Looking at the mesh that was once the frontier,
Disappointed by the nose diving riff raff
Who’ve been around half as long as I’ve been here.
What seems dumb to me, they treat like golden calf
And I’m the one made to feel like he’s loco.
I shed an asterisk tear; have the last laugh
But show up late and buh-roke like rococo.
Sits avoiding, mind the dope but not the world--
Ignore party, potty door; what’s the coke code?
Want to refuse her but she has got me curled
Around her elegantly spindly finger.
Don’t linger ‘round the door - act like she just hurled.
II
Sitting all alone in a group, non-drinker.
Cattle prodded - “walk over, enunciate!”
Each clip clop sends him further through the wringer.
Wasted as a sprinter, carry too much weight,
The baggage lay unclaimed and collecting dust--
Except in spaces he drew a figure 8.
Used to sedate the adolescent blood lust
With George Lucas-ed mem’ries, different universe
With more violence, love scenes, things we won’t discuss.
When younger, was the best; now older, the worst.
Dr. House the situation, make it hurt.
Aim for silver wear, don’t kid yourself with first.
III
Misspell name backwards and then call me reverT;
Focus on past, neural pathways become trails.
Then details take forward motion and convert
It to footnoted, annotated tall tales.
Well kept attic; well kept addict, no junkie
Keep it clean, so clean I could eat off the scales
Unbalanced by the tyranny of beauty
That can compel a reasonable man to
Travel to Djibouti just for some booty
Or lose Law & Order and commit Man 2.
Persephone song, but the Siren blows me
Pick up the phone, she said she’d blow my man, too.
IV
Same old movies are listed on the marquee.
Nostalgiac, call me Mister Reminisce,
Scrambles your egg like when you spell ‘bourgeoisie,’
Sunny side up, past is perfect, present: tense.
“Gotta let it go, that was high school ago”
Back then parties always lasted until grits
Were served. Rosey lenses keep hard drive aglow.
“You really talk about the past a whole lot!”
Duh! That’s the point, girl, welcome to the show.
And sure she’s hot, but she can’t follow the plot.
Maybe she just needs a more hands on approach
But how can she breathe with that nose full of snot?
V
Her name’s Terza, kinda bossy like a coach.
(How’s that for meta?) Girl, won’t you be my muse?
Let’s make it epic; we could smash it like a roach--
Wait, is that Buzzfeed? That’s where you get your views?
You love nostalgia too? Let’s talk about it.
She doesn’t like words, prefers pics like the news;
I am the squarest peg and she’s well-rounded.
Premise stretched thin like a brand new hulu show,
Opposites attract, not a shock, both grounded
Like, maybe next time - now go home, Steve, go home.
Always beware the man who commits too soon,
At first sign of flirt, probly write her a poem.
VI
Send her a text, starting early afternoon
“I want you on my orange couch, this week’s SNICK”
Trying to prove that I’m a clever gent. “Dude,
Do you want me or do you just want a chick?
This ain’t a movie. I’m not your love interest.
You’re being too sweet now I need a salt lick.
I won’t fix your life if you’re feeling depressed.
You want the happy and the end, but the trip
Is what matters. First off, this you must address
If you want it. Acting like your shoulder chip
Is what defines you; so fucking self-obsessed.
Here’s some advice from the nineties: Get a Grip.”
VII
Terza, you taught me a lesson, never guessed
That you would shed so much light on the lone moan.
Freed my mind up for fun things just like recess.
You hear when stars align but not when they don’t
Because stars apart is everyday, well known.
And a star means nothing when it’s on its own.
