Last Friday, Bigfoot Books and Brews in Marion, NC held their first poetry open mic night. I had intended to go to read a new poem but ultimately wasn’t able to make it. Sharing the poem anyways, enjoy!
Strangers on the Internet
“Be careful of strangers on the
internet,” mom said.
Called me out of class
to come watch a news clip:
Child! Kidnapped!
The computer screen
glowed, click, click, replay,
“You see what
could happen to you?”
I loved the internet,
dialing up AOL, sounding
like crumpled paper and
a robot in a blender.
But terrified and a rule follower,
I said no to ASL on AIM.
No to the guys with the
hair curlers at the mall.
No to sleepovers,
no, no, no (and for good reason).
Seems surprising that
I’ve become somewhat of
an expert on meeting up with strangers.
Is this still available? slips easily into
Let’s meet in that parking lot
on the other side of town. Cash? Sure!
If little me looked future forward,
she’d shake her head in disbelief
at the antique drawers I just loaded
into the back of my minivan.
In fact, I am a professional
when it comes to strangers.
Runda’s Resume:
Job Title – Meeter Upper
Ahem. Union Organizer.
Job Duties – 1. Talk to strangers.
Ahem. Engage in one on ones.
2. Encourage people to show up
at strangers’ houses unannounced.
Ahem. Train canvassers.
Strangers are your neighbors,
your coworkers, I say. No Bigfoots at
the door, no books
to memorize, no bruised
ego if the door closes in your
face. Be yourself,
connect, listen. Change the world.
Strangers on the internet
and in real life
are some of my favorite
people.
A former stranger and I
work out together
and then drink a cup of coffee
like clockwork.
A former stranger and I
talk kids over corporations
over the brunch counter.
A former stranger has me
excited about poetry open mic
three towns over.
There’s no more AIM, but my DMs
are filled with partially formed
meetup plans because
strangers on the internet
are just the neighbors I
haven’t met (yet).
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