Diotima 2 Part One Poem by Morgan Michaels

'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.'

'Exactly.'

'Well done. Congratulations. Excellent. A ten. Goodnight.'

I wanted to suggest she visit Phillip Larkin
but remembered he was dead and so probably wouldn't be interested.

'Diotima? '

'What? '

'XY is lonely tonight, I bet.
Why don't you run up and see him?
Hudson is beautiful this time of year. Very bleak.
There's a light on in his window, I'm sure.'

'He has house guests. I already checked. The benedictine is flowing.'

'I see.'