I suppose maybe it’s because I’m slightly jaded that I don’t really believe in that whole, “When I saw you I knew…” kind of love. The kind of love where your friends and family are like, “But, you JUST met!” while you run off to Asheville, NC and get married by the JOP.
It takes quite a while for me to really let someone in… And while I can still get caught up in the drunken romance and all of that, sobriety usually catches up with me fairly quickly.
On occasion, it happens that while you’re seeing someone and enjoying their company, a weird and pathetic switch goes off in their head and you realize that this person is WAY into you… Too much so…
Remember the Drill Penis? I rest my case.
ANYWAY, if it’s possible, I think this next submission from Bon looks down at the line that Drill Penis drew in the sand and stretches his leg out and LEAPS beyond it.
intangibles – 30 (17 ave ne)
If I were a tongue you’d be dark chocolate,strong coffee and sharp cheese. to touch you are the clay at the rivers edge wriggling between my fingers and toes. I smell you in the ferment of the ocean foaming on the waves. I feel your lips in every nuzzled blossom, your skins flush radiates in every hearth warming ember. My life, my worth encompassed I drown!…still for you I yearn
I guess this is some sort of extinct poetry of some kind… Honestly, if it were on the right hand page with a spanish translation on the left side, I would probably read it and feel a Neruda-inspired flutter in my panties. However, this is Craigslist… Not Capri. This is a weird dude on Craigslist and, I guess, ANY woman that replies… Not Pablo and Matilda.
This kind of thing really should be reserved for someone you love… Someone you’ve like, you know… met.
And that first sentence started out okay — dark chocolate and coffee… Word. Then he had to ruin my palate by throwing in sharp cheese. Dude… Those foods don’t go together!
Your skin feels like sticky riverbanks? And which ocean is nearby to Calgary that smells… FERMENTED? I mean, I get it… I understand the alternate definition of the word, but when we start out talking about food, fermentation has an entirely different implication… Like the orange juice in the back of my fridge that is waaaay beyond it’s date with the carton that is bulging out in the sides.
So while this joker makes out with fireplaces and flowers, I’m going to go read some ACTUAL Neruda.
