The Archives of Hope

so, i didn’t know what to say when she told me she was “kinda seeing someone” right now. so … i told her to pick me instead, i said, pick me like i’m a stuffed animal at the carnival, and your horse came in first, your quarter stayed on the table, your ring found the bottle’s neck, and you’ve got the hammer of thor that makes the bell at the top go bing a ling a ling a ling a ling a ling a ling!!!!!!!!!! pick me like there’s a million other combinations, so many other numbers to choose from, but i am the day, the month, and the year you were born, and you’re ready to play lotto. i said, pick me like i’m chocolate chip cookie dough. coz i am, and you can, have as much of me as you want, coz you picked me at lunch when i was like crunchy granola, yogurt, small salads, carrots and tofu. baby, i’m good for you. so pick me like i was a pygmy, and there was such a thing as team limbo, and you plan on winning that shit. i said, pick me like it’s elementary school during indoor recess, and i’m the only computer with the oregon trail game on it. “you and your family will not die of dysentery,” i swear. and we’ll make it across that damned river! pick me like it’s raining outside, you’ve got no umbrella, and although i’m not the closest tree it only took you a little bit of running to realize that you don’t want to be soaked anymore, so next to me will be home for now. yeah, i’m prone to lightning, but i’m really fun to climb, and at the very least, i’m grounded, it’s worth the risk. so pick me like you’ve got a hot tongue, and i’m the spiciest curry chicken on this continent. you and your family will not die of dysentery … i hope. i said, pick me like i’m the best seat in the house, the cheapest deal on the menu, the prettiest flower in the shop, and the ugliest dog in the pound. or the cutest, whichever works best for you. pick me like i’m lust, and for some reason you’ve gotta pick one deadly sin to go to hell on, so why not? and while we’re getting dirty, i said pick me like i was your nose, and you’ve been itching to get into something deep, like i was your wedgie, and you don’t give a damn who sees you picking at your butt, coz you’re gonna get me, and feel comfortable. but please, don’t pick me if it’s just a multiple choice question, and you use the process of elimination. no, pick me like i’m the answer to an essay question, and you defined the contours of my hand before ever holding it, explained my nature before unfolding it, described my eyes before ever seeing them, and behold it all just happens to match perfectly. baby, we should bring a case of plagiarism against god, because our matching is more than mere coincidence. but I don’t cheat. so pick me because i have all my own answers, not because it’s a game, and i should win, or because even broken clocks get it on twice a day, no, pick me because it’s your choice, your most important choice, and you really do want me, and you don’t want dysentery … because if you pick him … you and your family will all die of dysentery, i swear, dude is nasty. whatever you do, don’t pick him. pick me! and you know what she said? she said “shut up you crazy boy, you had me at pygmy limbo.”