Diotima 2 part one
'There, ' she said, clearing her throat,
shaking the hair from her face
and taking a sip of Aether-Aid:
'Now you have it. Your own sweet dream.
I hope you like it. Tell me it isn't
just what you wanted.'
'Like it? I LOVE it. Thanks, alot.
But I'm gonna' turn the light out now,
I'm kinda' tired and I have to get up early.
They're flying me to Albany.'
(I'd pulled a muscle at the gym and was in tremendous pain) .
'No, now! ' she said, turning the light back on.
'What's the matter. Do you think this was easy? '
'Absolutely not, ' I said, yawning and winding the clock,
'but it's a small plane.'
'Look how bright it is! '
'It's bright alright. Cure for blindness. G'night.'
I foresaw a quarter hour of fevered discussion.
Other men have girlfriends, wives, mommies. I have a muse.
'Have you listened to it? '
'Did. Cure for deafness. Good.'
'Should I turn it up? '
I sighed.
'We've been through this before.
The higher the volume the less I hear.'
'So you can hear it? '
My pulse raced. Dead art, indeed.
'Yes, it rhymes nicely, ' I remarked. 'Scans well.'
Voice-correct. Outlook-healthy, mood good
And not in the least political, thank God.
And not in the least religious.' Then, more critically,
'Actually, I rather like the time shift.'
'Yeah. And what about the adjectives? '
Um, ah, well, there don't seem to be any.'
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poem by Morgan Michaels
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