What happens after you die,
is what happened before you were born.
As it was in the beginning,
so it is in the end. […]
Surprise, surprise,
I was taking the elevator to the 9th floor
when I saw a familiar face running for the door.
It was Cupid,
and they were dressed to the nines.
I held the door, and they made it just in time.
“Thanks for holding the – oh shit,
it’s you, buddy! What the fuck is up?
I’ve been killing it lately! Spreading that love like crazy!” […]
Conversations In An Elevator
(Or: That Time Cupid Pitched A New Chain of Bars Called “Swipe Right”)
Surprise, surprise,
I was taking the elevator to the 9th floor
when I saw a familiar face running for the door.
It was Cupid ,
and they were dressed to the nines.
I held the door, and they made it just in time.
“Thanks for holding the – oh shit,
it’s you, buddy! What the fuck is up?
I’ve been killing it lately! Spreading that love like crazy!”
I laugh, ‘Oh, hey Cupid, it’s always great to see you!
I haven’t seen you since the world turned over,
…You look amazing! …And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with pants!
“Ha-ha, you know it, bro!
Fly threads for fly lives!
I’ve really blown up this time. Found the right gig!
Before I could respond, they continued:
“I’ve got this new chain of bars. It’s called Swipe Right.
“…Because everyone wins when you Swipe Right, right?!”
I laugh.
“Yeah, I get that. A chain of bars makes sense.
A bar is where I found love.’
Cupid grins and slaps me on the back,
“Exactly what I am talking about!
…Except …this club is a bit different…
“For one, when you come in the entrance
you are divided into two separate categories,
…which an advanced A.I. algorithm will decide..”
“The algorithm is designed by top experts in top fields,
and it will determine which part of the club they have access to,
platinum or premium.”
And I’m sure you’re asking yourself, what’s the difference?
Well, Platinum members get access to our Platinum rooms,
Where they can observe everyone, and enjoy our complimentary juice bar.”
And then Premium is a bit different,
In Premium you get to see everyone like you do in Platinum,
but you can also talk to whoever you want as well.”
Our complex algorithm also assigns everyone a value,
which then tries to arrange people in agreeable ways,
It is absolutely optimizing the way connections happen!
I raise an eyebrow and Cupid erupts with laughter,
They puts their arm around me and hug me close,
“Yeah, yeah, believe me, I know how it sounds…
But get this, we are already soft launched in eight major cities,
and the response has been overwhelming!
People seem to be responding to this really well.
For real. The clubs are packed, people connect and come back,
And they just keep coming back, …even if they don’t connect!
Because everyone wins when you Swipe Right, right?!”
I feel my stomach lurch and the elevator comes to a halt,
‘I’m sorry, Cupid, but this is where I have to get off,
“I wish you the best, but I have to be honest,’
‘This feels like a distillation of your worst inclinations ,
you’ve reduced the joy of uncovering a new relationship
to superficial snap judgements and AI influences.
“I hate to say it, because I know this is working out great for you,
but I don’t feel like this is the right play,
I think you can manage something better.”
I try to shake Cupid’s hand and they brush It away.,
“‘Manage something better’.
“Do you even have any idea how much ‘fuck you’ money I have?
“The amount of revenue I’ve generated off the soft launch *alone*,
Not to mention all the seed money and sponsorships,
‘Manage something better’ … fuck you.”
I go to say something and I stop,
What could I possibly say to Cupid to change their mind?
It’s clear where they are headed.
I shake my head, “My bad, Cupid, I’m sorry it shook out this way,
I hope to see you again someday” I say as the elevator doors close,
And the space between us grows further and further.
M. L. Michael
04/20/2021
Surprise, surprise,
Cupid messaged me online.
A video chat …. 2:28 a.m…..
And there he is
– a little picture that pops up on my screen,
a request from the profile picture of a semi naked,
half feather ruffled, fully drunk fool that I am beginning to remember…[…]
Conversations Online (a chance reencounter with Cupid) Surprise, surprise, Cupid messaged me online. A video chat .... 2:28 a.m..... And there he is - a little picture that pops up on my screen, a request from the profile picture of a semi naked, half feather ruffled, fully drunk fool that I am beginning to remember... I debate accepting the message... He instant messages me and says he needs to Face Time. He says he needs to see me again, Like back at that bar, He says, please, I'm his only friend. I don't know if that is true, but I know that I've enjoyed his company, however manic-depressive it appeared to be. .....I hit accept... "Hey-hey, Cupid!", I tell him. "It's been a while! What's going on?" "Oh, dude. Dude, Is that you?! Is that really you?" He's leaning into the screen - peering at me with one eye closed, one eye half open. And I can see all of his arrows, half cocked in his quiver, ....pointing everywhere and nowhere altogether. "Yeah, Cupid, it's me from the bar, you said I was the first mortal that had paid attention to you in years." Cupid's eyes widened and he jolted back in chair, and countless arrows fell from his quiver without notice. "Woah, I knew it! Man, we had such a great talk! But then I got so wasted that I totally forgot your info. And then I saw you come up as a recommend friend, and I was like, hey! that's that dude! I know that dude!" I laugh. Because it's almost 3 am, and I can't help it. This witching hour has this nostalgia running thick; his enthusiasm is a spectacle I remember, it's intoxicating. "Yeah, of course. So how have you been man? I've been seeing you online a lot, but I've been busy doing my thing, ya know..." Cupid laughs. "Oh yeah! I'm all over the Internet now. I'm telling ya, I *love* social media. I wish I came up with that. But that's all my cuz' Apollo's doing. I wish I had thought of it and that smug bastard knows it. ....Don't even get me started." I smile, and remember why I enjoyed Cupid's company. "For sure. So what has you on at near 3 in the morning?" "I can't stop browsing these websites! And then, like I said, I saw your profile come up, and I was like, holy shit! That's the dude! That's the guy that gets me!" "I'm pretty sure you were the one getting everyone that night." I say. He laughs as he was taking a drink and spits on the screen. "Haha. I woke up the next morning with an empty quiver! Haha. Dammit. Let me clean this up." He returns with a towel and new bottle of wine. After he finishes wiping his screen, I say "You said you needed to talk, tho. That I was you're only friend?" He sits back and takes a big swig. "Yea, right, I do, and yeah, you are! Do you see what's trending right now? Dude, I'm blowing up. People can't stop talking about me!" I shake my head. "Yeah, man, and you're okay with all of that? It's almost never ending drama, your name is thrown and drug all across the muddy web. You're constantly being misrepresented. I don't think that's a good thing at all." "But it's all publicity, and no publicity is bad publicity, right?!" He laughs and takes another swig. He wipes his mouth and looks at me as seriously as one can with a half closed eyelid. "Seriously though, did you read about what happened between Person-A and Person-B? That's some Cleopatra and Marc Anthony type shit! And now, everyone is talking about me: Who loves who more? Who fell out of love first? Who did they love when they were together? It's great. I love it." He toasts himself with another swig. ...I sigh, and remember why I left Cupid's company at the bar. "You know, I wish things were different, Cupid. I miss the old you." Cupid grinned anyway and tapped his screen with his bottle, "Yeah, yeah. I miss you too...but why wish things were different? Things are fucking great now! I'm trending *all the damn time*." He takes another big swig. Out of respect, I tip my screen with my can too. "Yeah, but you're more out of control than you were at the bars, or maybe you have always been this bad, and now Apollo has just invented a tool that shows your true depth, 24/7. ....But I still believe in you, Cupid. I always will. I will always wish and push for the best of you." Then I take a long drink from my can to swallow all of that down. Cupid threw his head back and frowned. "What are you saying? That I'm not doing great? Did you not just hear me when I said 'trending all the damn time'? "Yeah. I heard you...but what does this phantasmal popularity, the sharing, the thumbs ups, and the likes, what do they gain you in anything other distorted and fleeting snapshots of your god-like power?" He soured. "More people have been talking about me than every before. You have no idea what you are talking about. Apollo, knows what I mean. I'm better than ever." I feel the late hours digging in, and weighing on my mind and my shoulders. "You know what, I don't know that Apollo would agree. Sure, you're being talked about, so much so that you've become a buzz word - a word that just buzzes in and out of the ears of so many people. Your name may be back on the lips of the masses, and written all across the web, but it is said in an unintelligible slur and written in an illiterate's scrawl." Cupid sits there. Staring at me like some stranger just came up and slapped him out of the blue. My cheeks are red. Partly from the drink, and partially because I feel bad for being so honest. Then he says. "Yeah. No. I get it. I appreciate the talk, buddy. Stay in touch." and he abruptly logs off. ....... I stare at the logged out and disconnected screen for a while. I think about waiting for him to log back on, so I can explain myself better.. But it's 3:way-too-late in the AM, and I can only reason with Cupid for so long... 12/26/15 M. L. Michael
Surprise, Surprise,
I found Cupid at a Bar…
made all the more absurd and disturbing,
by his public drunkenness and his blatant nudity,
…plus the quiver and bow hung crooked across his wings… […]
Conversations at the Bar #1 (When Cupid Has A Few Too Many) Surprise, Surprise, I found Cupid at a Bar… made all the more absurd and disturbing, by his public drunkenness and his blatant nudity, …plus the quiver and bow hung crooked across his wings… Bleary-eyed Cupid, Leery-eyed Cupid, squinted at me, and at all the nuanced couples moving and mingling, like little pawns across his chessboard, with every awkward gesture and each misjudged move, - a toast in honor of his ego. And so it was without warning that Cupid fumbled for his bow and drunkenly fired into the crowd… […certain that there’s always someone lovesick ready to be lovestruck… …certain that there’s always a person’s passion ready to be charged on credit… …certain that there’s always a quota of Valentines-Day-Roses to be clipped & shipped…] But I was shocked… because no one seemed to really notice Cupid, they only seemed to notice each other’s makeup, madeup, plumage, and no one seemed to hear Cupid’s repetitive sighing, they only heard the clinking of ice in their half-emptied glasses of courage; and they only heard their hot whispers promising hotter nights. (that rarely, if ever, had the chance of dawning) I was confused to find Cupid acting in such a way, And I was surprised to find that no one ever flinched when Cupid’s arrow hit, At most, they only scratched or twitched, at some soothing, biological itch, or they smiled and beamed, from some glowing, genetic need… I took a seat next to Cupid and ordered a round for the two of us. Cupid smiled at my star-struck gaze, and gave me an appreciative nod. “No mortal has bought me a drink in as long as I can remember. In fact, it is rare that a mortal has ever given me more than a pause, beyond those acclamations they can only offer during their most ecstatic of exclamations.” He downed his drink, and leaned in close as he gave the bartender a signal for another. “You know, normally I don’t do this…but you look to be a good guy… So, for you, I will do this most special, this most privileged, of favors… “Who is it here that your libido swings towards? Who here could you rapture, like a saint in sinner’s clothing? Just give me the word, and with one, simple, arrow she’s yours for the having.” He fumbled for his bow and quiver, and I subtly pushed them away. He ignored my move, or possibly he never noticed, and continued to rant, “So, who is it you want? How about that leggy, cherry-bomb, sizzling over there, I bet ten minutes with her and she could blow you straight out the stratosphere! Or what about that soft and soulful star, with those midnight, velvety lips? Oh, on those lips you could dream of every universe and heaven, real and conceived! …Or maybe, instead, you see that subdued, sublime, siren, by the jukebox? Sure, I can tell she’s serenading you; the way her lips shape these romantic lyrics. She’s hypnotizing you with her hips –subtly swaying them to that beat underneath. Yes, I can see it in your eyes, you are outlining her curves with your boldest brush! “So, my good friend, which beauty do you want – …or, perhaps, you want them all?!” He boasted with laughter that I found embarrassing, and yet, irresistibly intriguing… I did my best to suppress my disappointment in the Cupid I had discovered… and I did my best to redirect all that south-bound-blood back to my north-thinking-head… I tried to tell him that he had me, and everything entailed, all wrong: “I don’t think your arrows are meant for all these random flights of fancy. I’ve come to believe that every arrow must mean something special. That if any arrow is to matter anything at all, than every arrow must represent all that I find to be wholly-life-lovingly-unique.” Cupid appeared both frustrated and confused, So I continued, with desperations to elaborate my point. “What I am hopefully saying, my dear, rosy, Cupid, Is, if you are to help me, and not to harm me, then you must be as disciplined as you are passionate, you must treat your arrows as if they are of a finite number, ….and most importantly, each arrow must represent the values I desire the highest - and not simply the lusts I hunger for the hardest… Cupid remained quiet…and now more withdrawn. “Am I making sense? “All I’m doing is mimicking my Heroes: those Romantics, whose shoulders I sit upon whenever I pen my tributes…” Cupid stared into the distance as I paid for our drinks, and before I left, I gambled on one last plea: “You know all these arrows you’ve shot so wildly into every crowd? Why not take a moment, and watch these couples you’ve managed to hit. …And tell me, dear, spirited, Cupid, what are their odds of any kind of lasting, fulfilling, love, is it just one night… is it just two days… or are they a rarity, and they last longer than a month? …And then tell me, dear, dispirited, Cupid, “Of those all the hapless, innumerous, hearts… How many were better off, before your arrows intervened?” Cupid never answered… he only stared into his empty drink… and quietly signaled for another round. M. L. Michael 02/22/11
Every Breath Poetic 