Untitled

By Emily Sorg

(Note: It's not about the fat.)

Sometimes,
I have found,
it is easiest to choose
nothing at all.

For example:

You are at an
elegant cocktail party,
and a pushy young waiter

shoves a platter of

bite-size delicacies
(all liable to ruin your brand-new,

dry-clean only dress)
in your face.
Rather than test his patience

(and your stain-remover, back home)
It is easiest to answer,
"No, thanks; I've had some already."

Perhaps

you're at a
family barbeque
and a table of dishes,
each prepared by a
different and highly sensitive
(menopausal) aunt
awaits your judgment call.
To avoid offending,
it is often simplest to just get up
and offer your seat to

someone else,
someone older (preferably frail), saying,
"No, no, really-I insist."

Or maybe,

you are dancing at a
nightclub with

some friends from college
and two equally

handsome
young bachelors offer
to take you out afterwards
for a late night bite-to-eat.
Instead of having to choose one
(and later wish you had gone with the other)
It is often best to just tell a little white lie, like,
"Sorry-I already ate."

What about when

you are at home
on a July morning and

awake before anyone else (even the heat)?
And your naked body,
loosely enveloped by a

thin cotton robe,
sits in the kitchen,
whispering sweet-nothings

to a wobbly old chair,
while your toes

   dangle

and

       drink

from the wooden floor

below them
whatever coolness they can?
And through an open window

your eyes quietly take note

of a snail, still sleeping,

delicately coiled on the

wilted petals

of your mother's irises

like a newborn child?
And behind it, the sun

rises, stoically

glowing; a halo on the horizon.

In such a case,
on such a morning,
there's a chance that your mind might still be asleep,
and simply wouldn't-couldn't!-know where to begin
writing, reading, or tasting that day;
or even, this poem.

In such a case,
on such a morning,

where there is simply too much to choose
I have found that it is easiest to have
your mouth say, politely, on your mind's behalf,    

"No, thank you. Today

I'm really just not that hungry.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Trackbacks are closed, but you can post a comment.

About Emily Sorg

Emily is currently an undergraduate at Brown University. Upon graduation, she will be attending Mount Sinai School of Medicine in Manhattan. She takes pleasure in drinking tea, making puns, and wearing scarves.

3 Comments

  1. Niaz Khadem
    Posted January 2009 at 9:19 pm | Permalink

    Here you are. I thought I’d lost you. Did this not, once, have a title? Beautiful poem. It’s been a while since a poem pulled me in like this one.

  2. Crazy
    Posted April 2009 at 7:55 am | Permalink

    I believe that this poem was talking about the thought that people have in order not to regret they’re decision. By not taking the offer of that man or avoiding the aunts’ call knowing that she would be mad. Its’ very true about how think in order to live either happy or just alone. I think the title should be “Avoiding”. This title will still allow the reader to wonder what it is that you are trying to say.

  3. Eduardo
    Posted June 2009 at 1:29 pm | Permalink

    Beautifully written by a beautiful poet, its almost a shame she is going to med school. Lets hope she will still have time to write. Well done Emily, please keep them coming -A.eduardo.R.

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