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

Later today.

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.