The Great Architect's Lunch Poem by Glenda Cimino

'Man does not create, he discovers.' - Antoni Gaudi,1852-1926

Gaudi liked a simple lunch -
lettuce dipped in milk pleased him.
The corrugated leaves had more
surface area to catch the drips.

In his pocket he carried
a raw egg, instant snack:
the eggshell was the strongest,
most perfect form in nature.

Dessert: a handful of sugared almonds,
arranged on the table like a galaxy.
To copy God's handiwork
was the highest form of praise.

One day after Mass, the Mayor
slapped him on the thigh:
the egg dribbled down his leg.
His plan, like God's, proved imperfect.

From then on, his pocket
held only nuts and raisins.
In the realm of design, even God
had to make compromises.