My friend Randa seems to know everyone in St. Louis
I’ve seen her legal pad of lists of people she must see
Within a time span that doesn’t seem humanly possible
I could be sitting outside at 6 North Coffee
And I’d see her in her red VW
Blazing down Laclede Avenue
Talking on her cell phone
Buzzing to her seventh meeting
Out of 12 that day
We manage a visit from time to time
I always leave invigorated
To see yet another of Blake’s human forms divine
But let me smash that pedestal
Here’s something she won’t put on her Curriculum Vitae
I asked if she could help us out with our Palestinian olive oil project
She said, Sure
And so Randa phoned the mosques
Patiently explained
Attended the necessary meetings
And within weeks sold $1,700 worth of olive oil
That would benefit Palestinian children in the refugee camps
She’d say, I’m glad to do it
And she’d acknowledge that
In the grand scheme of things
It was no big deal
Yes, I’d think
It’s so little
But it’s something
