Forty-nine is a decent number

of things to ask for,

because it isn’t quite fifty

so people won’t think you are mad with

greed. Forty-nine is

always within reason,

unless you happen

to be asking for physical objects (e.g.

toys if you are a child, in which case you

might be spoiled


But if you want friends

or hugs or reasons to live,

or compliments or states visited

before you die, or concerts attended before

you’re too old to attend concerts, then clearly

forty-nine is an

okay number. Besides,

no one really needs

to see Alaska. Forty-nine is even

on the pathway to six hundred

or ten thousand

or whatever number you happen to be aiming for,

and you have to get past forty-nine

before you even get to fifty.

Start with forty-nine

and make your way up.

It’s almost always

a good place to start.


Your Girlfriend

I hope that she

sees you every day and

thinks about how lucky she is to have you.

I hope that she

holds herself in high esteem

and gets good grades and

cares about her future.

I hope that she

is dying to hold your hand

and when she finally gets to,

she just about dies anyway because the sensation of

your hand against her hand melts her.

I hope that she

has a good head on her shoulders

and thinks about what you say and

sometimes debates it, that

she doesn’t just soak it all up like

a sponge, like that’s all you

words deserve.

I hope that she is

everything you want and more.

I hope that there’s a little part

of her that loves you

already, even if she

doesn’t know it yet.


I hope that you

prize her like nothing else

and that you can’t stop thinking about her.

I hope that you

would never do anything that

would make her uncomfortable

because she is worth so

much more than that.

I hope that you

notice the way the sun glows

in her hair or the rain

sparkles, that you point it

out to her and tell her how beautiful it is.

I hope that

you think she’s beautiful.

I hope that every time she smiles

or laughs or

tells you how her day was,

your heart flips in

your chest and nearly

comes out your mouth.

I hope that she does that

to you. Because you deserve the

best kind of girl, whatever

that means to you.


I know that it does not mean the

dorky girls with dark, curly hair

and fuzzballs for eyebrows and

jeans with flares that

they hate, too;

the girls who have

only had academic conversations with

you and are dying for something

more, but are too shy to be

of any use to themselves.

I hope that you never notice those

types of girls at all,

instead of noticing them

and turning away.


I hope that you are happy,

not just with her but

in everything you do. And

I hope you know that.

Supercell: A Poem

The clouds envelop the sky

like a gaping mouth seizing prey

and make the world a subtle shade of dinge

that looks like blue

but is grey,

the lightning cackles from

a place miles from here and

turns the darkness back to day for

a fraction of a second.

I drink in the thunder,

and it fills me down into my toes,

and other parts where the sun rarely touches down

even pouring some of its heavy honey

into my eyes and

bringing out the definition

of the shadows on the pavement and on the leaves.

The low winds whistle on

their journey through the awnings,

leaving a hollow noise

to balance out the ripples

of the raindrops splashing in their own puddles

and the glare of the moon

is blanketed by sheets and sheets of cloud

that fold over and around themselves

like a dance

performed by endless numbers.

This is where I feel at home,

with the rustling noises, and the smell

of things becoming damp then

soaked, with the vision of

quilts of clumsy lace and horizontal

pellets, the feeling

of not knowing, of being

alone and afraid and in a cage and other things that are mysteriously pleasant,

the rolls of rumbling

filling and satisfying

to the last drop.

I am not a torment,

I am a misunderstood wave of love and

in a storm I find

that I am not so lonely in

being the way I am

and so I follow it East

kept warm by comfort

until the light filters back in.

10-Day Blog Challenge…Day 10 (Thank Goodness It’s Over)

This could get interesting.

Picture 20One Confession

1. I’m not sure if writing a book is for me.

You know those two posts I did about writing a book and how much fun it was? I’ve stopped writing that book. I simply lost interest and stopped writing. It makes me very sad, but it is what it is. Maybe you never will see a book with “By Mikki Aaron” on the front cover.

Don’t start crying yet! Don’t lose hope! Things could turn around. Maybe there will be a book. Just not soon.

In hindsight, this might not be the most shocking confession I could have made, but the most shocking one could put my life on the line, not to mention the lives of countless civilians, my loved ones, and people who read this blog.

Blogging is just my escape, the way Clark Kent is Superman’s escape. It’s hard to be…you know, whatever…all the time. Sometimes you have to pretend you have a normal life. Tony Stark and I used to jokingly call this our “day job” until he decided to be an idiot and tell everyone that he’s Iron Man. So all this “mikkiaaron” and “Mikki Aaron” and “romantic poetry” and “mindless stupidity” I’m doing…it’s all just pretend. Even a…you know…needs a break sometimes. You know?

But in more important news, maybe all this book writing nonsense could have gone more smoothly. And maybe a novelist isn’t on my list of possible careers. Oh well, right?

Ciao for now,


10-Day Blog Challenge…Day 9

This has got to be one of the worst prompts of all time. But here we go.

Picture 20Two Smileys that Describe My Life Right Now


Look at how frustrated he is. He looks like he’s about to murder something. He’s saying, “I’m gonna freaking cut you.”

I’m not this frustrated, but I am pretty darn frustrated. There are lots of things that are frustrating, almost exclusively having to do with my social life and/or family life.They’re normal person frustrations, but despite the fact that they could be much worse, they are quite frustrating.


This guy looks so darn happy. I mean really. Just look at him.

This face is totally me because, despite my mild frustrations, I am content. Also, considering my tendency to think about romance…a lot…this blushy little thing could be me most waking hours.

Ciao for now,


10-Day Blog Challenge…Day 8

Picture 20Three Turn-ons

1. Intelligence. I honestly do not have the power within me to date someone unintelligent. And when I meet someone who clearly is brighter than your average lightbulb, it kind of sets off a spark.

2. A well-dressed guy. There are a few looks that aren’t appealing to me at all––slouchy, swaggy, MC Hammer, and hipster, to give a few examples––but there is one that will just about do me in. That’s right: classy. Classy guys aren’t necessarily wearing hoity-toity suits with fancy ties. It could be as simple as a shirt that’s the right size and shorts that are an appropriate length (just above to just below the knee). Classy could be sweaters and dress shirts too, just don’t do it like this:

3. A nice laugh or smile. For some people, a smile can brighten up a whole face. In my eyes, someone who is enjoying himself is the most attractive. My favorite kind of smile is the one with teeth showing. My favorite kind of laugh is pretty much any laugh (unless it sounds like a choking horse; that’s what mind sounds like).

Ciao for now,


10-Day Blog Challenge…Day 7

Picture 20

Four Turn-Offs

1. Tobacco and/or drugs and/or alcohol. I don’t want to date someone who smokes. I don’t want to date someone who will be obedient to some dealer, for the purpose of illegal substances. And I most certainly do not want to date someone who gets drunk regularly.

2. Those shirts with memes on them. They seem to display that the wearer has no life, and on top of that can’t come up with jokes by himself.

No, just not interested.

No, just not interested.

Yes, yes you are.

Yes, yes you are.

…is what you'll be doing when I reject you, Lady Gaga.

…is what you’ll be doing when I reject you, Lady Gaga.

3. Annoying opinions. I won’t go into specifics ‘cuz I don’t want to offend anybody, but there are a lot of opinions that really tick me off. And those opinions will prevent me from dating the poor sucker who has them.

4. Moustaches. I get it, the whole “moustache” thing is in right now, what with necklaces and t-shirts. But they are not attractive. They make you look like a weird, creepy person when they’re by themselves on your face. And that’s why I will never date a guy with a moustache.

Oh, gross.

Oh, gross.

Ciao for now,