The Next Man Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

You may be as randy as the next man,
But can you be romantic?
Will you take me dancing?
Will you hold my hand and walk me home
And let me go with just a first kiss?

I know the times change.
I know some customs must die.
But why do we need to be like the new breed?
Why can't we stay in our own age
And do things the old way?

Remember how it felt
To dial a phone or ring the bell
Without knowing what sentinel
Stood between you and the one you came to meet?

Remember having to pass a father's muster?
Remember hovering mothers?
Remember curfews and house rules
And commitment?

Maybe our parents felt trapped.
Maybe we settled down too fast.
But we grew up, too, knowing
Someone else was depending on us.

Now I am simply a witness
Through filters of fact and fiction
To new stories told by bold voices
But they all seem stunted to me.

If perfect freedom means sleeping with perfect strangers,
I would prefer to be entangled in the outdated chains of love.