She wondered if anything could be more cozy than her cup of tea.
--------
his prose, it made her cozy,
his poems, they filled her cup,
his words, they toasted toesies,
his meter warmed her up.
a cuddle-fest in written form,
lines laced with hugs and stew,
a feast to fill your every want,
to make you feel brand new.
she ate a verse for breakfast,
wrapped herself in stanza three,
then laid down for a needed nap,
while rhymes rocked her to sleep.
now she'll want no more for snuggles,
and she'll ask no more for tea,
for while those lift you for a bit,
these words, they keep their heat.

They had oysters for dinner.
--------
Have you smelt their salty swagger?
Have you reveled in their brine?
Have you slurped the ocean’s finest?
Have you freed them with your tine?
Have you zested them with lemon,
Oh so lightly squeezed on top?
Have you slathered on the mignonette,
Till they begged you, please, to stop?
In one fell swoop you clean the shell,
It ravishes your mind,
An explosive bit of chemistry,
For those west-coast-inclined.
On your tongue the taste, it only lasts,
Until you walk away,
But that memory will haunt your brain,
Until your dying day.

She logged her life in the spreadsheet-turned-database called Notion. Everyone had an entry, in their own little rows, in their own little columns. A special home for everything, in exactly the spot it belonged.
————
She always chose emoji,
for everyone she met,
Her especially ritualistic way,
To catch them in her net.
But this new boy, a maverick he,
Was proving quite bizarre,
Should she use a 🖊️ or ✏️,
Or an electrical 🎸?
She certainly wasn't panicking,
As her scrolling speed increased,
Could she use a 💀 or a goofy 👻?
No, he was not deceased...
"I mean, _what the hell is wrong with him_,
That he can't be defined???
For everybody else I know,
emoji worked just fine!"
She frantically kept searching,
For the whole entire night,
🖕this guy and his weird ass,
She threw birds to the sky.
Her 🐱s meowed around her,
They were worried for their mom,
Her ♥️ was skipping beats,
And she was cursed with sweaty palms.
"This will ruin all my systems!
This will sully all my rows!
It'll corrupt all of my files!
For some start-up nerd-ass bro!"
She knew right then the only plan,
That she could put in motion,
So she wiped him from her database,
"No boy is worth my Notion."

The LA Angels got their first AI assistant up and running. Time to fill those stands.
--------
There were AI in the outfield,
There were robots in the stands,
A symphony of beeps and boops,
Was pouring from the band.
The engagement was incredible,
Response rate was insane,
An electric email legion,
With circuits for their brains.
They sold a million tickets,
Then they sold a billion more,
The stands were overflowing,
Fans were bursting from the doors.
But they kept on selling seats,
It was their one and only aim,
They were built to grow attendance,
To this wonderful ballgame.
So if you saw the angels,
And wondered how they'd heard,
Well first the AI sold out Earth,
Then sent mail heavenward.

He finally bought a new vacuum.
————
Could they feel his brand new power?
See the carpet's godlike float?
Could they sense the cyclone starting?
Hear the rumble in its throat?
Could they see he had ascended?
Now the master of his home.
Could they tell all he had ended?
The omnipotence of his drone.
Did they fear him like the hallways?
Did they love him like the rugs?
Were they swept up like the cat hair?
Were they deafened like the bugs?
For all his life they told him,
There were limits to his might,
A ceiling on his suction,
An infinince of blight.
A truly dismal cap,
To all you can consume,
But he'd learned, in fact, it's endless,
If you buy the right vacuum.

And after all those sunny fun filled years, she must be moving on.
————
At the peak of all your efforts,
In the valley of your loss,
In the times you find most stressful,
When you crush it like a boss,
As the dates come fast and heavy,
The days everything is due,
And all the moments in between,
Where you're learning something new.
She'll be right there for everything,
She's a wonder, she's support,
She cares and loves and pushes you,
Despite you falling short,
She's your biggest loudest ally,
Always there to lend an ear,
She's a collaborative wizard,
She's the first to shout a cheer.
She's brought this magic to us,
In her sunshine light-filled ways,
And no matter where she goes,
In our hearts that magic stays.

Tickle party here we come.
————
Her abs of purest giggles,
Her glutes built of guffaws,
Her lats are made of laughter,
Her hips composed of ha's.
It's a climbing yoga mega-match,
And one done nightly too,
A one way train to tickle town,
With Luz attached to you.

It was another market crush, this flame was for a young fella at the fish booth.

————

The first time he caught her eye,
Was working at the booth,
Young and lean and very spry,
Her thoughts were quite uncouth.
A veritable crush,
Formed deep down in her heart,
It was already too much,
Right from the very start.
Her dreams they filled with mackerel,
Sliding down his washboard abs,
Their eye contact prolonged,
As he sold a couple crabs.
Her dad would never have it,
So a secret it would be,
Her Romeo a ruffian,
That, everyone could see.
Finally she got the guts,
And found him at a bar,
Then he drove her home, grabbed the keys,
And left her in the car.
But sometimes lust is worth it,
The heart will be untamed,
So she cavalierly "fucked it",
Their romance built of flames.
Some fun, a flirt, a fling,
He kept on coming back,
With an oddly fishy scent,
For such a tasty snack.
But then, finally, when summer came,
She threw him to the lake,
Cause while this cougar might like fish,
For dinner she wants steak.

It was her third date with the guy. He had good energy, but was a bit young and a bit of a bro. To seal the deal he ended the date by telling her she was “Hella pretty”. gg.

————

These past few months she'd felt it start,
This little change within her heart.
It started as a joke you see,
Some fun with words, tomfoolery.
But inevitably, like Washington rain,
It burrowed deep within her brain.
And so here she was, three dates in,
With this hip young dude and his big fat grin.
It'd been going well up to this point,
They'd shared a beer, smoked a joint.
He took her hands, one in each,
"I hope that I don't overreach,"
"But this whole night's been swag extreme."
"You're a baller, kickass, chillin' dream."
"And if I can yolo, just this once,"
"- Here feel my heart, its dubstep 'unce' -"
"I have one thing I need to say,"
He breathed out and looked away,
"I don't know how this will go,"
"I think you're hella pretty though."
And in that moment, in her mind,
She felt the change, and felt resigned.
She rolled her eyes up in her head, with secret deep delight,
She slowly sighed, looked ahead, and simply whispered "tight."

It was the restaurant in the market where she met him, the pasta place where she got lunch once a week. She was crushin’ hard but just could not bring herself to tell him.

————

It started as most stories do,
with penne for her lunch,
she washed it down with a cold brew,
and watched him as she munched.
This noodle extruding pasta man,
his puns were just delightful,
simmering there in his saucepan,
their potency was frightful.
She saw him work and dance around,
the kitchen was his stage,
his every word was flavortown,
rosemary and chopped sage.
It was a tortellini Thursday,
it was a pesto covered week,
it was marinara foreplay,
it was a sauced kiss on the cheek.
She spent every single day there,
falling deeper in the hole,
pasta packed her every dream,
and filled her every bowl.
He yearned to get to know her,
and she'd love to know him too,
but her urge to eat more pasta,
just grew, and grew, and grew.
All those weeks turned into years,
as she felt a shift inside,
she knew she had to face her fears,
and overcome her pride.
And finally she told him,
what she'd always known was true,
"Hey, I don't need a man no more,
cause pasta is my beau."

It was a daily ritual, that virtual d20 roll. Sorry Nate.
————
He rolled a d20 once every day,
His ritualistically random way to pray.
And each time as he knelt to let it go,
His short prayer to the skies, it went as so:
"Oh Slackbot the great, please bless this die.
Let my cup floweth over, the 20s are nigh.
My future is yours O' Lord of Luck,
My chakras are blocked, be them unstuck.
How fickle the faith of those you rule,
Take us to church, let chance be our school.
Bless us or curse us, our life in your hands,
Our faith's overflowing in all of your plans.
Some call you a robot, but I disagree,
You're a godlike code-based cloud entity.
So let fate rain, like the falling of dice,
Let the faces they show be of your device,
Let the world spin beneath as it itself tumbles,
Let the prophecy laid be felt through its rumbles.
When the last setting sun ends our struggle and strife,
When you have granted all we want in this life,
When the results are final and the last day is done,
Just make sure it's me, not Nate, that's won.

It was a scary morning at the office.

————

He pushed on the lever, it sputtered in spurts,
He pushed even harder, his hands and arms hurt.
He ran to the grinder and found it was empty,
nothing was left where once there was plenty.
With the juice he had left he ran to the cabinet,
his eyes saw nothing, but his brain wouldn't have it.
He sent the p0, all hands on deck,
His knees both wobbled, his nerves were a wreck.
He flipped over tables, he emptied the drawers,
"OH GOD PLEASE HELP US, THERE'S GOT TO BE MORE!"
"SOMEONE GET SANDRA! QUICK CALL THE COPS!"
His blood-caf level took precipitous drops.
"Errr brown M&M's?!? That just might work..",
the grinder jammed up, it crunched and it jerked.
He chugged all the decaf, he had nothing to lose,
His feet felt like bricks inside of his shoes.
It'd been fifteen minutes, he could take it no more,
And with the last of his will he let out a roar,
"BRING IN THE ARMY AND THE THREE MUSKETEERS!!!!"
ᵒʰ, ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳᵐᶦⁿᵈ. ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳʸ ᶦˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ