She hasn’t finished her coffee,
Grounds staled by luke-cold water,
And yet, her strict gaze
Assures you she doesn’t need it.
You said something clever,
Trying to evoke
Her needle-sharp wit.
She doesn’t laugh;
Titans don’t laugh.
Yet she’s no glacier,
So she smiles,
And Apollo shines through.
Last night she remained alert,
Despite the full arc
Of the cloud-embalmed moon,
Awake then for to finish her tasks
Her stature dwarfed by intellect;
She won’t have trouble.
She dressed up to go out tonight,
Just to the coffee house.
Her fingernails shine
Like justice dispensed
With a gesture of her hand.
How she must surprise her adversaries!
To them she requires coddling,
For they miss the Olympian fire
Roaring from out the dark circles
Mortals call eyes.
Her coffee sits cold by her side,
But she takes another sip—
Tonight she will outsmart herself again.