Gleaning lets you get/
what others leave. I can’t glean/
when she leaves nothing.

I love to rock and/
drive my ragtop in the rain./
Sometimes I’m topless.

Where did you go? How/
have you been? Do you want to/
walk; go canoeing?

I’m a pretty smart guy,
I think.
Yet sometimes I
could be driven to drink
(although I don’t,
and I won’t)
by the complexity
that lies before me
as I fish.
I wish
there was some way
to quickly say:
“Don’t think I’m a nut
if I want to follow up!”
without seeming greedy,
or appearing to be needy.
You email a woman who says
“Yeah, you’re funny,
and I’ll bet
you’d give me
a run for my money
intellectually … ”
and then …
nothing.
So you email her again.
This much is true:
you then have no clue
what else to do.
Do you wait?
Let her contemplate?
Trust your life to technological fate?
Or move on?
(What if she’s the only one
who’s caught your interest
thus?)
Update/
to her “cute…thanks :-)” response
at ten thirty-eight:
And the answer
to the question
from the romancer
is______________ … indigestion?

In joy or heartache,/
you always inspire deeply,/
asleep or awake.

The trauma of anticipating curry is this:/
U cant taste the promised bliss/
if that hot, exotic dish/
is never served./
U bcome unnerved./
Y bother!?/
Order another!

We talk deep,/
methinks,/
only when she drinks,/
unless 2 sleep/
she doth fall./
Then,/
2 my she-grin,/
she will not call/
me again/
at all./
Minutes 10/
turn 2 days then.

Once he learned how much/
he loathed codependency,/
he closed it quickly.

I’m a writer. You?/
We could discuss our genre:/
How we write Haiku.

One of the most creative writers you’ll ever see/
and I can’t get a beautiful woman to answer me?/
Should I just try brevity?/
Say small bits?/
Is that it?/