The first time I met him
I sputtered and squalked and stalked off to the bathroom
to recollect myself
after he said he’d been reading my blog.
Then I came back and stared him down
I said, “Oh, ok, and did you happen to read the first poem?
The one that says not to read my blog?
and that if you do it anyways, you’re a creep? Even a stalker?”
“Yeah, but..i don’t know. I thought you were being ironic.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”
“I liked your stuff!”
“That’s really not the problem.”
Oh, god, and then that very awkward silence
I wanted to call the waitress back
and change my drink order
to the strongest one on the menu