Current Issue               Submissions               Round Table

 






   

 

GLADLY, IN PURSUIT OF HIS DREAMGIRL

Gladly,
in pursuit of his dream girl,
was not a boy easily discouraged.

Hopelessly
inept in the skills of the chase, he forged ahead
with the good-natured resolve of the blissfully
oblivious.

    Gladly Abracadably,
      he would say,
    man of mystery and magic.

He had a line for every girl.

    Howís the weather up there?
      heíd ask the tall ones, or,
    Let me help you up out of that hole,
      if they were short;

lines for the big ones,
                  small ones,
                  bright ones,
                  blondes;

lines for every day and time.
multi-lingual, multi-cultural,
multi-everything-imaginable,
lines for almost everyone.

But,
    what he didnít have
      was a line that led
        any of them to give
          him the time of day.

So, finally, one night, at a disco called

    We're Way Too Cool For You,

he was just about to give it all up

    Itís no use, he said to himself,
        looking forlornly
        into his glass of
        diet Slice.

    In a world of bar-b-que banquets,
        he sighed,
    itís baloney and beans for me.

At this very moment, the very moment,
    it would happen,
of Gladlyís final surrender to the despair
    of the formerly
    oblivious,
he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard
    a tentative giggle...
was that really a giggle he heard,
    a feminine giggle,
a friendly feminine giggle he heard...

    Shirly Prestowhirly,
        she said,
    looking for magic and dreams.

      — Allen Itz