My wife and I have a meet-cute story
about how my pick-up line was
Will you marry me?
and it worked like gangbusters
but what we never bring up
(in polite company, anyway)
is how I used the same line
on this ditzy blonde in my lit class
the exact same day and
she, too, was moved by it.
This girl embodied all the stereotypes
of a million dumb-blonde jokes
being known to my social circle
for promiscuity and stupidity
that tarnished her striking good looks.
In less then twelve hours
I proposed to two women
which meant I had the awkward task of
rescinding one offer the next day.
Had I chosen differently
would I still write poems or
would my time be filled explaining
the plot of Dora the Explorer to
a woman in her mid-30s who is
sleeping with the boss at a job
she only got with her short skirt?
If asked to deliver remarks at a
high school graduation
I would share my story about pick-up lines
and urge those kids to keep that shit
sealed behind glass until
they have no choice but to use it
because it is an emergency and
lives will be lost if this one gets away–
future lives full of witty discussions and
silences that communicate and
a love that will survive if
you go totally blind and find yourself
sitting in perpetual darkness and
forced to talk to the other person–
only then should the glass be shattered.