Blind Date

I chased her down streets

Through chronic alleyways

Past come-hither byways

(like bittersweet chocolate treats).


I searched for her

In the avenues of Memory

In the twisted yaws of History

In the writhing shapes of Fantasy


I promised her

Ineluctable rewards

Infinite glories

Vast caverns of rapture.


If I were

To capture


Would I change?

Would the abduction alter

The DNA of desire?


Or would the tortuous journey


Unwrap the why.


I always thought

that Why Not

held the graspless keys.

Why Not opened


of lavish




timid, lustless, lily-limbed why,

whining, crooked-legged Y

tempted me



Why Not, I queried her?

Why Not

Fold into my exuberance,

Tumble into the lap of my yearning.


I am learning

To blast.

At last.


You will never find me,

bind me,

said she.


You will fail

We all fall down

Like ashes, ashes

Ringed around with posings.


Failure is an


An also ran

An Edsel man.


Success hid

among the rushes

of doubt.


Come out!

Come out!

Wherever you are.


And she came

too late

the blind date

that came too late.


Her name?

That dying flame

That crushed ember of

Lame acclaim

Absence of joyance

Instance of hindrance

Essence of silence.


Her name

is Fame.


c. Corinne Whitaker 2014