this is the time of dating.
the movie theaters are chockfull
of first timers. the restaurants as well
are like busy crab traps.

i dated blind once.
i found her childish and rather up stuck.
her talk prattled on. bounced off walls.
clung to my fork.
crumbled in my cauliflower flan.

but dating is all anyone has time for.
a quick bite. late movie.
to head out before the credits roll up.
to beat the parking lot rush.
then the shy drive.
stomachs in a mushy knot.
to first kiss or not. to make her wait.
so she can say. this guy. this one's a keeper.
a real leading man type.

dating for pleasure. dating for pain.
some date for the company.
others do it just to walk away.

shall we box it up. stick barcodes on it.
set up tables at a market square.
lay our assets out like colored glass.

everybody's dating.
some are multiple-dating.
this girl i know has four guys
that she rotates like milk. the oldest first.

i'm through with it. listen friends.
i mean it this time.
there will be no more popcorn
butter fingers on my lap.
no more can we talk.
i'll be on a different track.
i'll be the one
with sunshine on his back.

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About Jeffery Van den engh

Jeffery Van den engh was born in the Montreal Jewish General Hospital not too long ago. "I read T.S. Elliot mostly, but my greatest influence comes from music. I am inspired by many things, but mostly memories. I write because I'd be foolish not to." Jeffery has written this poem for his bio. for my more readers i haven't yawned very long in literary circles. to bear away in basements clueless to the sensual flux of seasons. to masturbate salvation. to suckle inspiration from the posthumous teat of some old bard as life leaps and sprouts beyond the sheen of chessboards freshly greased. through nicotine pasted casements angled only by a bible turned propping stone. where semen glazed posters portend towards a plaintive future. a bleak tunnel. perhaps a blade of moonshine. to slurp pretensions and mochachinos smoking catastrophes on corduroy sofas. to seek out kinship with williams and ginsberg. to ridicule daddy with reference to cronus. i regard your disquietude. would you have me cease to notice. my arms in raised pomposity. i coliseum cheer. sparrow songs truckle when you speak. please undo me with your wit. slit my wrists with paper daggers. to abscond to paris patios. bleeding woman with my tongue. to squat square chested on a breakwater trembling from the ocean score. to flake away in fiery conversations. to build up like hysteria squeezed into a padded jar. to erupt with scorn and snobbery. to juggle for the bar. to bury my face in lunacy dripping drunken la dee das. is to me a waist of life. which is to me replete with inspiration.
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