"Geeks who Drink"

All Social--No Media
Make her take to the encyclopedia
Every time she logs on that computer
A tiny thing in her palm
Seeing it's hard to stay calm
With the world on your shoulder
An information molder of brain
An data cloud of rain
The cyclone of video, article and post
Her computer acts as a host
To the virus of internet
She's already so deep in debt
For this pocket tech.
It's too much to handle
The cyber ramble
Not worth it's gamble
Behold, or should she say, "de-hold"
Into a pocket it goes
Where a dust level grows
And of course, the mute
Is set to 'acute'.

Instead, out of preference, she takes to the malt
Be it a shake or some liquor
Each beverage is thicker and slicker
Than- here's the kicker-
The man who's quite the woman picker.

It is he her pussy rays slay.
And so he stays
Unaware of the energy of spirit
Whether or not he'd like to hear it
This spark keeps him captive
His maladaptive genes make him less keen
More likely to lean
On the bar, maybe even stare from afar. . .

Feeling quite pluck
Or a false sense of luck,
The buck grabs a dollar
Plans to give the doe a holler.
Beer in hoof,
Ego through the roof
He trots to the deer, and offers the beer.

Oh, how well she knows
Her bright spirit shows.
She takes the beer with a smile
With intentions to steer clear by a mile.

He isn't mad
Or even sad, for
There's other women to be had.
Still other men with their jaws slack
Sobriety out of whack
'Nothing,' they think, 'does this woman lack.'

They're right, in fact.
She's got poise and tact,
Men speak confidently;
Everything but meek
Yet she only hears noise
From the grown-up boys.
One offers her a bite
But accept the offer, she shan't quite
He didn't ask and they never do,
She craves enough veggies for two.

The night goes on
For the beautiful fawn.
With nothing to loose
She has found her muse
Now seeing in two's
Thanks to the booze,
And nothing to do with the internet-fake news.

This place got her thinking,
Her heart no longer sinking:

"Maybe this trivia is trivial
Maybe these facts are cracked
Maybe this bar is too far
From home on the bus
For one, or maybe!all us. . ."