Welcome to “Poetry at The Arts Fuse.” A new poem every Thursday.

The 5 Magic Words

Thank you for writing the software that allows
me to feel fear with such astonishing accuracy.

Thank you for wearing a bell that tinkles whenever
I scratch your chin. Whenever you diddle my dimple

I chuckle, pardon me. Sorry for shifting that pile of
dirt around, I know how you hate dirt. I know you hate

the hairs that grow on my big toe. Sorry about the
pandemic. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you

for Super Nintendo and a quasi-normal childhood.
Thank you for those wisps of fog always sneaking

out of your bonnet.  Please stop waving your arms
around while bargaining with the immortals.

Excuse me for offering up your reindeer for ritual
sacrifice. You’re welcome – I took a shower and have

just shaved both my legs. I’ve hired acrobats to reenact
each year of your life in no particular order. I’ve hired

Superman to remove your gall bladder. I’ve hired
various kinds of birds, both real and imagined.  Thank

you in advance for all the kindness you’ll show them.

Elizabeth Marie Young is a Boston-based poet and educator. Her first book of poems, Aim Straight at the Fountain and Press Vaporize, won the Motherwell Prize from Fence Books. She is also the author of Translation as Muse: Poetic Translation in Catullus’s Rome, a book about the ancient Roman understanding of lyric translation and literary creativity.

Note: Hey poets! We seek submissions of excellent poetry from across the length and breadth of contemporary poetics. See submission guidelines here. The arbiter of the feature is the magazine’s poetry editor, John Mulrooney.

— Arts Fuse editor Bill Marx