New York City. Tinder sucks. Sleep.
it rarely rhymes
"Am I looking for good poets, or those who seem like good people? And also will you have a bodyguard or someone on lookout in case I pick a weirdo?"
The Winner Of The Haiku Challenge
"We've got some true old-time chivalry here. Our poet opens by claiming a level of unfamiliarity with the haiku, admitting his limitation or trepidation. He moves then to ask for Julia's help, thereby deferring to her intelligence in the matter of poetry. Both are expert moves (self-deprecation has been a key strategy from Cicero all the way up to Kanye West) and both are signs of a person who is comfortable with who he is, comfortable with sharing power. And yet, with that sudden, surreal installment of the out-of-nowhere-refrigerator in the final line, he also scores the joke, and despite his earlier depiction of himself as possibly in over his head, he proves he knows very well what he's doing with the haiku. I think Marcel DuChamp would have liked this one."
"In love poems written by men and targeting women, we get a lot of imagery about expected body parts: legs, eyes, lips, blank, blank, and blank (and you can fill in the blanks). But not so in this poem, where the subject Julia's teeth are singled out as not only 'nice' but 'real nice.' By focusing on this non-traditional love poem image of the teeth, [the poet] gets a lot of originality points. The other thing I like about the haiku is the way that it succeeds by way of failure. He opens the poem by claiming that he would like to rhyme and to say something nice about Julia. As we can see, the haiku doesn't rhyme, and therefore this suitor fails in that wish. By not rhyming, he fails at level of style. But he does not fail at the level of the interpersonal, of the level of the intimate, of the level of teeth, of the level of Julia, which is a much more important level."
"In this 4:20 haiku, the poet establishes his relaxed nature right away, in that smooth 'what's up,' but he balances the chill tonality with a super-specific image: He invites Julia to smoke a joint and watch the rain. Most traditional haiku will contain a reference to nature, and in using one, the author — maybe even high when he wrote the poem, which should add difficulty points — displays a deep knowledge of the form, but even more than that depicts an image of an intimate, peaceful, and future moment, between himself and Julia, and presents that moment with clarity and authority. Of the poems here, in my top five, this might in fact be the best poem qua poem, but I'm not sure how amenable Julia might be to the rolling up of a fat one on the first date."
"Though pushing the syllable count, there's no doubting the man's passion. Heart, eruption: The poet announces, here, with the flip of a finger, with the seeing of the subject Julia's image, love at first sight. Boom. He has swept the swipe of Tinder life only to be moved from his former way of being (in the mundane, in the digital) to full on romantical conflagration. Note how, with the use of the concept of wildness and unsteadiness, he equates his heart to the image of colt, unsteadily jumping up and finding its legs, as if the vision of the subject Julia's picture has given his heart animalistic rebirth. Which is a shame, I think, since the colt that is the heart of the speaker — brand new, recharged at the vision of his Tinder Princess — then bursts into flame. Love is a baby horse on fire."
Long story short, the date went great between the two. Rock climbing turned into dinner and sparks definitely flew. Any chance for a second date, no telling -- but I wish them both the best. Like I always say, Tinder isn't the best -- but it is believable sometimes.