Haiku 4 5.18.2007

Ah, it’s been a busy weekend! I’m glad to see that New Yorkers take some extra time on Friday night and Saturday to really tend to their Craigslist needs.

I have gotten SO MANY responses to my Dating in 17 Syllables Project in the past few days. Most are, excitingly, in haiku format. Some are terribly dirty (in the bad way), and some are terribly flirty (in the good way), and some seem to have nothing to do with me at all, but are simply a poignant and human 17 syllables about a total stranger. Form poetry is some kind of portal, apparently, which allows people to share deeply and genuinely about themselves, about their hopes and dreams, about their fears and secrets, and about their interest in wearing my underpants while being my sub.

Fascinating.

The other thing that’s happened is that someone else started posting haiku in the personals, too. This got a few of you all up in arms, which I appreciate; your fierce loyalty to my brand integrity invests me all the further in this particular exercise in self-indulgence. I prefer to think of myself as a trendsetter than to think of “Haiku 4- 35” as a threat, although I do wish that she had started her own numbering system instead of tagging onto mine.

So, I’ve just posted for today, and here it is:

Haiku 4

Political and
compassionate, I prefer
my bike over all.

I’ve been trying to think of what my big finale is going to be. I mean, I have all these haikus now; it seems like I should do something with them, right? Maybe I should invite everyone who’s responded to all meet at a certain place at a certain time and we can have some kind of big singles haiku party. With booze. Or, maybe I should start sending people’s haikus to each other, and act kind of like the online broker of 17-syllable dating…

Personally, I have zero interest in dating. I also have zero interest in working, cleaning my room, eating, going to the gym, taking a shower, or leaving my apartment, to be honest. I think I am deep in the throes of my post-relationship self-loathing. I am committing as of today, right now, that I will not be re-reading any more old emails. I will delete some, if not many, text messages. And I will stop comparing myself unfavorably to other women, movie stars, college professors, and Rockettes. It’s true, I’m not M’s ex-girlfriend, and i’m not Angelina Jolie, and I haven’t published any books, and I can’t kick that high (though I’m practicing- a lot). But there are other things that I offer the world, and I am going to start making a list of them VERY SOON.

Meanwhile, I did dig out the cocktail napkin listing the “New 7 Stages of Grief” that we crafted at my last caucus of heartbreak, and it looks like I’m right on track. If I’m currently slogging around in self-loathing (and oh, trust me, I am…) then that would mean that I’ve successfully earned my merit badges for step 1 (substance abuse), and step 2 (bitter diatribes). Indeed, I think I could find some substantiative data from the past few weeks to support both of those experiences. I’ll keep you posted on my progress there, too.

Tags: craigslist, haiku, online personals