Anne Carson unquestionably deserves better than to be stuck in this post with my lame attempt at haiku, but that's not stopping me!

{Photos by rocketlass.}

From Autobiography of Red (1998), by Anne Carson

Thank you, said Geryon
and bit into an olive. The pimiento stung his mouth alive like sudden sunset.

In South Haven, MI,
Not a martini in sight.
Should have packed my kit.

If we call Helen up either she will sit with her glass of vermouth and let it ring or she will answer.

And though we would never be so presumptuous as to disturb Helen of Troy--who of course is the sort to drink straight vermouth--with a phone call, should we ever find ourselves with a ringing phone in hand and Helen of Troy at the other end, we just may ask her to deliver our portable martini-making kit.