The Textual Adventures of Mike Topp and Me

Chelsea Martin

Mike Topp: Chelsea r u 636 or 536 57th st? Mike Topp [1]

Chelsea Martin: 636 57th street apt b

Chelsea Martin: Whats a good date movie?[2]

Chelsea Martin: What were you thinkin about when you were first born? Also. Were you the first born? [3]

Mike Topp: Wtf? Also. Yes. [4]

Chelsea Martin: Wtf is what you were thinkin about? Or Wtf in the traditional sense?

Mike Topp: Traditional. Can you write me a poem? Im lazy.

Chelsea Martin: A poem? You want so many things. [5] Would you prefer a poem about debit love or cash love?

Mike Topp: Cash love is always better-dont u think? [6]

Chelsea Martin: Well yes, unless you’re talking about convenience. Then, no.

Chelsea Martin: I can’t write you poem today. Someone braided my hair and i need to take the braid out. [7]

Chelsea Martin: Can’t write poem today. I have hemorrhoids. [8]

Chelsea Martin: No poem today. I’ll explain later.

Chelsea Martin: Boy Trouble. [9]

Chelsea Martin: No Poem. Tomorrow is the day though! I can feel it! [10]

Chelsea Martin: Can’t write. Woke up on wrong side of bed etc etc.

Anonymous text message, probably from Mike Topp: Please leave me alone. [11]

Chelsea Martin: Wtf?

(several weeks pass)

Chelsea Martin: I haven’t written you a poem yet. Do you even care? [12]

Chelsea Martin: Maybe I won’t write one at all then.[13]

[1] I had ordered Mike Topp’s new book of poetry from him, and had apparently written my address unclearly. He must’ve gotten my phone number from my website.

[2] I heard this was a great ice-breaker.

[3] I realized my ice-breaker wasn’t personal enough. People usually only want to talk about themselves.

[4] See what I mean?

[5] He had also asked me to mention him on my website in a previous letter.

[6] What a pervert. Just kidding. I don’t think ‘cash love’ means anything.

[7] I decided to make an excuse for not writing him a poem every day, since I didn’t know what ‘cash love’ was anyway.

[8] I planned them days ahead. Here are some that I never got to use:
  1. No poem again. Sorry! If you forgive me, I’ll double your expected number of poems. That comes out to two (2) poems! This is an excellent opportunity! Accept this generous offer and I’ll also throw in a bath towel that I’m kind of sick of.
  2. No poems today. I am nostalgic for when you used to write back.
  3. Can’t write poetry today due to biological clock malfunction.
  4. No poem. All I can offer you today is this especially thought out question mark: ?

[9] The trouble is they don’t pay any attention to me. But I was trying to imply that they did, and that it leads to so much emotional distress that I have to split simple text messages into two parts.

[10] I still had absolutely no intention of ever writing him a poem.

[11] Caught me way off guard. I called my cell phone company and asked how likely it was that I had intercepted someone else’s text message.

[12] The sarcasm I was going for here doesn’t really come through.

[13] I put my chapbook, Dream Date, in the mail the next day.

Mike Topp is like a mix of Gallagher and a smarter Gallagher, plus a little Mark Leyner and some anti-depressants and some depressants, and some coffee. Mike Topp could have gotten a job for a sketch comedy show somewhere, and maybe he did and I don't know about it. Mike Topp just put out a book called SHORTS ARE WRONG.

Chelsea Martin lives in Oakland because she, well, she doesn't know why. It's probably not because of the hobos that sleep in her yard and swear at her when she doesn't say 'hi' properly. She has been described by boys as 'elusive,' 'awkward,' and 'dumpy.' Find out for yourself at PS she's single, wink wink etc.