sam seeking saw for ltr (craigslist poem)

sam seeking saw
for ltr, maybe love

i am googling
for a girl who respects herself
enough not to trawl craigslist

but am enough of a romantic (so i tell myself)
to try this anyway,
hope you are too

i like the outdoors, as long as they’re city walled
running bareassed through the snow
diving headfirst down alleyways
broke my only violin that way,
stopped lessons soon after to my mother’s chagrin, tried
my hand at crafts and arts and myriad disciplines, my proclivities
lending themselves to being broke
penny poems and post modernisticcritiques
all i have to give you on your birthday.

i want you to know i’m not desperate
but then again, who isn’t? it’s the lonely city
where we walk the crowded sidestreets
sex is great, companionship better but you miss love,
the unquestioned assumption, the ease of it.
the drama and the passion of it. the comfort
in the glistening of hair through fingers, unexpected
backrubs and in-jokes

promise not to pull knives. or have a preacher
for a father. no furries need apply.

i’m a smoker, trying to kick the habit
a heavy drinker 420 friendly and more,
learned from the uncles
that sometimes, drinking
is all you got. am a friendly alcoholic
will tell you what i have inside me, can’t tell a lie
to save my life.

am not arrogant enough (or accomplished enough)
to list my income suffice
to say my parents are ashamed
i’m not a doctor, nor an engineer
the asian kid in the sped math class
at school for liberal arts

my worldly possessions just barely
enough to fit into two bags of kitsch
and worn books

i know, only because i left home
trying to find myself

it sounded
less cheesy in my head

i still haven’t.

i roll dice for a living
they’re loaded. work every shitty job
that will have me women, the same.
my knuckles, like subway maps

have a soft spot, in my sarcasm
for longshots, live my life by ‘em

message in a bottle, fitting for my hipster pretensions

pic for pic.