Guest Editor

When I was down in the Shire packing up my souvenirs, I came upon a poem Lucille had written to me. She was a law book editor and witty essayist. I asked her once to be a guest editor on the blob but she laughed that idea away. However, now that she doesn't have a say-so, I want her to be my guest. I'm certain if she decides to haunt me over this act of defiance, it will be in a delightfully Irish way. 

Just Desserts

This is not your birthday cake.
If you celebrated birthdays,
it would be your birthday cake.
But, since you do not celebrate
OCCASIONS, it is not your cake.
Besides, today is not your birthday.

It is my birthday cake,
or it would be, except that today
is not my birthday, either.
My birthday is next week,
when you will not be here.

Today is not the birthday of anyone
who lives in this house.
If we eat the cake tonight,
it will not be a birthday cake.

It will just be our desserts,
yours and mine.
Cake and frosting.

Billy Collins*

*O.K. Billy Collins did not write this poem.

And it is not actually a poem.

If I were Billy Collins, I would write

a poem for your birthday. Maybe.

I do not know if you even like Billy Collins.

Maybe he will write a poem for my birthday?

I do know that birthdays deserve celebration,

and you deserve poetry and cake and all things good. **

**The best I could do between the time I got home and the time your feet hit the stairs.~~H.

Honor Cunane