Monday, February 11, 2008

Stupid Cupid



Every so often, those of us who always hear more than the band is playing, seem to sense some sort of message coming through the ether, especially around Feb.14.

Something in the warp and woof of the universe, perhaps like the ghost transmissions of a dead astronaut, suggests a message to you and you alone.
Perhaps she still cares. There have been mysterious hints of late.
You might need a medium. Like your blog.

So out I come. Out with some writin' that I am sure would remove the panties of a dyed-in-the wool sailor-suited feminist, my very best effort.
I produce a poem of love and loss, my obsession with her , how much I miss her, how even bad sex with her was better than the best sex with California beauties.

I really put on the dog,

"I long for you with all my heart
Despite the stigma, thought

It matters little what is fact
I'll drink the cup you brought.

I am vigilant.
There is no answer in my blog space, so I turn off my computer and try one of my several radios.
Nothing. in the ether,nothing in the static.
I turn the TV off-channel, look at the waxing moon. I am attentive to star noise and the precious message that may be contained therein.

Nothing. Just idiot news stations that give you the weather every five minutes and then health news and advice to me as to how to have a happy period.

I put the TV onto VHF, play with oldfashioned rabbit ears. Blank screen with a snowstorm.
In the middle of the snowstorm some Danish pornography somehow creeping in. A man and a woman are making obscene love.
They are doing it, but they are doing it slow, like turtles. Must be somebody's website that somehow got onto a kicker station on the moon!
I am putting out something like an S.O.S., certainly what old Morse operators called a CQ, that is to say, "Seek You."

Nothing.

All my wanderings about the ether, all my searching for a contact point, all my "CQ"'s--and nothing.

Finally the answer comes, onto an old blog of mine where I had even then hoped to attract the one I love.

There is a thrill as I open the comment space.


Go fuck youself, you fucking idiot.

Ah Loren. Only you!

Dan'l Cupid shoots his arrow and gets kicked in the balls.

I go back to my reading of Leopold von-Sacher-Masoch, probably the inventor of my condition. The guy actually existed!

There is a chapter where both Venus, naked under her furs and her polo-playing lothario set upon poor Leopold with ugly-sticks.

"Hit me," says the masochist.
"No," say the sadist.

Oddest kind of three-way I ever read about.

Ah, Valentine's Day with Leopold von-Sacher Masoch.

Do you wonder why I don't teach any more after telling my students stories like that?


I consider Loren's note of endearment.

Go fuck youself, you fucking idiot.

I go to answer.

"Yeah, but what's your point?"

##

11 comments:

benjibopper said...

apparently a portion of that static comes from passing remnants of the big bang. it is like watching creation itself.

ivan said...

Big Bang indeed!

Sienna said...

Love can be so damn turbulent, love, love, love until the point of madness....

Couldn't do it any other way.

Here's up your kilt. :)

Pam O...ooooh

ivan said...

Lass...

benjibopper said...

btw, good luck with the taxman. out here they share an office with the mortician.

Charles Gramlich said...

Yep, the woman's response sounds about right from my experience.

ivan said...

Benji,

I thought I'd be rich with my tax refund, but as usual, there were gremlins...Mr. Blocks furnace blew up...Computers stalled.
I stepped into the toilet bowl this morning.
Ain't I a lucky guy.

Ivan

p.s.
My past intense love is computer literate...I am having trouble accessing my own site.
Hell hath no fury...

ivan said...

Charles,

It's the one you can't get who are especially worrisome.
I had a mistress who built up my ego to monstrous proportions.
"You can have any woman you want."

So I went to the Unnattainable One.

" Any woman?

They have ways to torture you.
Heh. Old Leopold again!

ivan said...

sh'd read

the ones you can't get.

TomCat said...

I really put on the dog

Ivan, you picked the wrong animal. A cat would have served you far better. ;-)

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Tomcat,

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!