Ode on a Failed Conversationalist
An interest he seems to show, it looks
as though he paid attention to the words
I said. How utterly astounding such
an act appears to me. A man who took
the time to memorise the details? God
forbid! Although, the words he uses are
not adequate to the task at hand. Compare:
an alligator lunging at his prey
should use his teeth, and yet this one instead
kills with his claws. The job is done howe’er
not in the way one would expect. In this
same way his tactless words express to me
the meaning in his mind, but not the smile.
His phrasing leaves a lot to be desired.
Yet this one seems to be trying. Suppose
I send reply to him and wait a while.
Godspeed, it flies and within hours he
has sent word back to me. Alas! Again
he tells me things I know already as
I was the one who wrote them! Though at least
this means he made a note of it. But wait.
Again the use of that same word? He has
no sense of a thesaurus! Everything
is interesting. My profile, character
and now my wit. I blame his job: he works
in computers. But this I did not find
out ‘til the message after this. And still
he tells me things are interesting. My quirk
of picture editing has drawn his eye
and this, too, makes him express interest.
What a fool. He tells me he’d like to know
more about my literary work and
says he senses originality.
Originality? I should hope so!
I did not join this line of work to steal
ideas from another, after all.
Oh god he likes commercial dance. Dear Lord,
pray tell me this is false? What is
this nonsense? And he prefers the beat
above the words? Well I prefer a chord
above the melody but I still know
the value of a single note. Likewise
the value of the words should hold a place
of higher ranking than a simple beat.
What’s wrong with you? But I will write you back
as I am a good human being. My face
may now be one with palm, yet I’ll reply.
I tell him of my love of editing
and send him the synopsis of my book.
Alas, he is a man! I did not know!
Whatever did posses me to believe
he would not ever comment on my looks?
And then his own! He wants a photograph
of me and in return I will receive
a one from him. I’d rather not, thank you.
I edit my own photographs because
my face would melt your own if you clapped eyes
on it. And even so, I don’t want to.
To top it off you tell me that you like
a certain artist more than most and so
I ask that you would recommend a song
To me. You tell me no, you have not heard
much from that person recently. Well done.
So far everything you have done is wrong.
This interchange of messages shall cease
if you don’t change. It’s not my fault: I’m a woman.