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a poem by Stephanie Lenox
My Last Poem
I write my name instead of the poem.
It swims cursive through the English
Channel. At the right margin it crawls out
breathless and dripping with victory.
It’s all about me.
The president places a gold medal
around my neck with my name
in diamonds. The crowds chant.
They fill the stands and look just
like me. My face grins from the cover
of Time. The article praises my beauty,
my skill. I wrote it.
When I walk down the street, every dog
whimpers after me. I am the hero
of children. Shopkeepers paint my name
in neon across their windows.
Wednesday’s diner menu honors me
with extra gravy.
I am a guest in every capital.
Every poem I read begins and ends
with my name. I endorse shoes.
The meter is remeasured to fit
my foot. All new technologies
must pass my approval. Parents give
newborns my name like a raffle ticket.
The world spins in my direction.
The economy blossoms: because of me.
The literacy rate rockets: because of me.
Wars end: because of me. Peace prevails:
because of me. If there’s hope,
it’s me. If there’s prosperity, me.
Change, me. Love, me.
Go to Volume 0.1 /Previous/Next
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