Back at the library, trying to write
an interesting poem about ancient Greeks
but some little girl won’t shut up about horses
and the two librarians are being too Minnesota-nice.
They had six different words for love, those Greeks:
Eros, Philia, Ludus, Agape, Pragma and Philautia.
“DO YOU HAVE ANY BOOKS ABOUT HORSES?!”
Eros, of course, is the most well-known:
Passion, driven by desire.
“WHAT ABOUT MOVIES ABOUT HORSES?!”
And Pragma, I think, is a worthy aim –
developed over time, as a river carves rock.
“ARE THERE ANY AUDIO BOOKS ABOUT HORSES?!”
Y’know, I’m really trying to practice Agape here –
love for everyone, including annoying little girls –
but I’m also pursuing Philautia – self-care –
and that means writing, and that needs quiet.
“MOM! MOM! MOM! WHERE ARE YOU MOM?!”
Her mother – not deaf, just regretting her life –
hides in the stacks and swipes through her phone.
Back to the ancient Greek shelves I go,
this time not for love, but Euripides.
There’s some good ideas in here, I say,
interrupting the mother-phone session, handing her a play:
Medea.
