by Carolyn Martin
Say what? She’s not going to buy it.
Another Leda and the Swan or Perseus?
Why another myth? Anyway, I have a slew
of gigs to attend: that woman who wants the devil
off her daughter’s back and the blind man
who lost his job weaving rugs. Not to mention
Elizabeth in her sixth month. Doing it the natural way,
Zachary’s so puffed up, he’s insufferable.
Can’t you send one of the feminines
like Mercy, Faith, Sunny, or Purity?
There must be someone on their team
who’d love tackling this virgin stuff.
It’s not in my league. Yes, I know
March 25 is next week. Why the rush?
Nine months to “Christmas”? Is that a new word?
Wait. There’s my phone. Leave the script.
I’ll let you know after I ponder it.
