Poem dating myself
Instead, I stand at the window and lower it down to them in a basket. Well, technically, Jane Austen was the zombie killer, not Dickinson, but close enough.
There were also emails from men who were utterly confused, who wrote things like, “Why?
A friend and I were at lunch, discussing our frustrations with online dating, when I suddenly realized the ridiculousness of our conversation. I decided, right then, that I needed to do something to alter the course of our conversation.
Here we were, two modern, educated women, and we had spent nearly two hours talking about our romantic relationships! Putting on my big-girl feminist cap, I said, “You know, there have been a lot of talented, amazing ladies, throughout history, who never coupled off.
When it was our problem alone It was the prisons we were shown There was little sympathy don’t cha see When it was just you and me Who said they had a problem There were few out there to solve ‘em But opioids are everywhere And it’s a disease now, so I hear That crosses all socio-economic lines Now there are many telltale signs It’s now called an opioid disorder Past the inner city border And the word is harm reduction Instead of out and out destruction Cedric Mc Clester, Copyright © 2017.
All Visitor Comments on this poem have been posted by people who wanted to let the author know the poem touched their hearts.
Then, right before I deactivated my account, a guy I knew from my real Ok Cupid profile “liked” my Emily page. He wrote back, “You are so messed up.”I rest my case.
Did these men think the 19th-century photographs of Emily Dickinson I had posted were images of an actual living, breathing woman? Or were they just so desperate for sex or companionship that they emailed every profile they came across? They didn’t know my age, my weight, my gender, nothing.
For all they knew, I could be an 80-year-old man or a group of thirteen-year-old girls or a really smart gorilla.
Apparently, on Ok Cupid, you’re allowed to be a harassing perv, but under no circumstances can you pretend you’re a dead poet.
I kept reposting the images anyway, and people kept reporting me. Eventually, I got tired of this merry-go-round and added a disclaimer to my profile: That seemed to help, although several people told me that the disclaimer made the whole thing “less funny.”But even with all the haters, Emily was not hurting for suitors.
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People are drawn in by that image, and then they create their own fantasy on top of that. Maybe this wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Ok Cupid projection about a real-world woman.