Dear Readercongoers: in honor of the Marriott's absurdly renamed rooms, and inspired by phi
, I give you the small gift of some small poems.Embrace
as the lights come on
and the tide ebbs
Sewing is so old-fashioned.
I have woven this corpse
from strands of protein
and fragments of genes,
carefully following the pattern
Throw the switch!Empower
they said she would never walk again
but it turns out
being a butterfly is pretty greatEnvision
The worst thing about
is my nagging certainty
that they belong to someone else.
Whose warnings am I getting?
What fears could they conquer
if they only knew
they were afraid?Ignite
I'm sorry. Antibiotics do nothing
for bronchitis. The only cure is rest.
Take a long hot lava bath.
Curl up on your hoard
and read a novel. Let your body heal.
And no flying! The cold thin air
will do your lungs no favors.
I know it's hard, but rest. Rest.
In no time at all, you'll be back
to your old self.Imagine
no, small child, you cannot fit
the spoon up your nose
no matter how hard you try
but I admire you
for dreaming bigInspire
her turret has an excellent view
of the training grounds
the ladies titter as she perches on the sill
and watches the squires spar for hours
she dreams of muscles and sweat
the whack of stick against padding
the cheers and laughter of comrades
a brotherly arm flung around her shoulders
as they stagger their bruises
off to the bathsCreate
This parking lot is full of cars.
People drove the cars. Reverse that:
every car means a person. Maybe two or three.
You came by air and rail and road
because we said, "There will be a party
and we hope you can be there." Reverse that:
until you arrived there was no party,
only the hope of one.Collaborate
He cooked you comfort food.
I took you shopping for baby clothes.
We squeezed your hands
as the doctor said, "Ready?"
Yes. Yes, we are ready. We are.