MORE GREAT POETRY FROM TELEDON

Aftermath of a Blind Date
by teledon

Hello? Rita? Oh I got your machine.
Yo! It's me, your blind date, lover-boy Gene.
I've left five messages; you haven't called.
I can't believe that our romance has stalled.

I didn't think it necessary to state,
before we met, I'm sixty pounds overweight;
that I'm so casual, my suit's never pressed;
that no socks and tie is properly dressed.

There was good reason for me not to shave;
stubble is manly, my little love slave.
No, I don't believe in deododants;
I think male odors are aids to romance.

I know you liked it when I touched your knees,
even tho' you shouted, indignantly, "Please!".
As I talked and chewed; ate peas on my knife,
I knew how you longed to be in my life.

I showed you how I eat pie with a spoon,
and belched to show off; I thought you'd swoon.
You giggled hysterically, wasn't it great,
when my denture slipped, and fell in my plate?

Too bad your migraine cut our ev'ning short,
I knew you liked me; I was just your sort.
As you paid the check, I planned on a kiss.
But, at your door, something sure went amiss.

I guess it was the wind that slammed your door.
Did you hear it whistle, "I can't take anymore"?
Did you get my messages? Is the tape full?
You must be pining for your snorting bull.

To heck with the phone, I'll be there tonight!
Wear something flimsy, seductive, and tight.
If this doesn't record, or you've moved away,
I'm sure you'll be searching for me ev'ry day.