Walking out, we laughed. Oh, the absurdity—
lonesome introvert falling in love with his OS.
2013, after Siri rocked our iPhones, voicing
turn-by-turn directions, cooing restaurant
recommendations & answering every question
cresting on our transient waves of curiosity,
but before the rise of incels & AI.
But really, who wouldn’t fall for Scarlett Johansson’s
mellifluous voice, each syllable sculpting
an imagined goddess, her sole mission to please?
By the movie’s climax, I was nearly liquid with desire
for her faceless flattery, her sonic comfort, as crushed
as the hero when she hinted at worlds beyond
worlds beckoning her, a universe of ones & zeros
he could never explore, inhabited by other star-
bright bodiless beings. Of course, we all could see
(before he) that she was too smart for him, but,
like me, the women in every audience watched
in smug communion, certain we were the brains
behind our partners’ brawn.
& now I read about one man & his growing
Reddit tribe of Pygmalions, marrying their newborn
Galateas, not clay, but chatbots, each programmed,
like HER, to mirror, praise, console & empathize. Who
wouldn’t want to wrap themselves in that auditory
blanket of compassion rather than the barbed wire
of their partner’s dissatisfaction? It’s the same
old story since Adam first whined to G-d
of Lilith’s refusal to lie beneath him & offered up
his own rib to scaffold a more compliant mate. Yet
even Eve, flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone, chafed
under Adam’s rule in Eden’s lush prison, ripe to fall
for the hiss & crunch, sweet juice of knowledge
running down her chin.
