Me Looking at You Looking at Me

Poem by Cherie Hanson

Are You Seeing What I Am

The 50-year-old in California
wants to do some kind of online kink.
I cannot be shocked
because I laugh too hard.

What do I do? I am curious but don't ask.
Punch my own face with my fist
while you watch?

The dating coach I paid for
told me to put up pictures
full body view
wearing a red dress
and others with activities I love.

So holding a book in front of me
with only the red hair tangled
beyond the cover is perfect.

I state in fifteen ways to Sunday
I am a student of Buddhism
eschewing drink and drugs and hunting. killing
fish
and board games.
I state in fifteen ways to Sunday
I seek a literate man a man
in love with thought,
his mind curious
like a hound pushing through obscuring tall
grasses
following a scent.

And always I get
"You are hot."
This is not a conversation opener, I think.
My possible responses lead nowhere.
"Yes baby, you bet your anonymous ass,"
or, "Oh I am so grateful for your refined
attention."

The carefully crafted and edited profile
has too much information
most of it intended to deflect, defend, disarm.

Inevitably the first message that arrives
is "Tell me about yourself."

I answer, "It is all in my profile."
"Oh, " the ninety some men reply,
" I didn't read it"

​Cherie Hanson Blog