Super Unicorn Encounter

I wrote a bunch of poems called “Super Unicorn Encounter”.

A surprising (or maybe not surprising) number of these were written in meetings I should have been listening to.

Man, look at that guy. He is taking detailed notes.

Insider tip: If you live in the Twin Cities, French Hen does have some of the best coffee. The giant pancake (sans butter) is the goat.

Without further ado.

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Super Unicorn Encounter 5: The System is Down

I’m leaving French Hen
with a medium dark roast
when a notification pings.

Your spirit guide has arrived.

Leaning against a
dented silver Prius,
a unicorn
wears a high-visibility vest
over its translucent coat.

This keeps happening.

I walk over,
holding my cup like a shield.

“I didn’t order a guide,” I say.
The unicorn sighs,
a sound like a tire
leaking air.
“Algorithm matched us.
You’ve been flagged for
‘Low Wonder’ and
‘High Cynicism.’”

“You’ve been selected to
receive this special offer for a
twenty-minute
unicorn-enabled
epiphany-adjacent
experience.”

Its voice lowers as its cadence increases.
“For thirty-nine ninety-nine,
plus
a fifteen percent
Service Excellence Fee.”

“Is it a real epiphany?” I ask.
“Or just a feeling of lightheadedness?”

It taps a hoof
against a smartphone
suction-cupped to its horn.

“Depends on your subscription.
Looks like I can do—
‘Quiet Resilience'
or 'Vague Sense of Belonging.'

'Absolute Truth' is platinum tier.”

A horn honks.
The Prius is double-parked.

The unicorn leans in—
smelling like
wet hay and whiteboard markers.

“Look…
I’m two rides away
from a Quest Bonus.
Just get on,
we’ll go around the block,
I’ll trigger the ‘Awe’ sensor,
and you can go back to your coffee.”

I look at the Prius.
I look at the vest.

“Do you take Venmo?”

“System’s down. Cash only.
And don’t mention the vest in the review.”

I pause to answer a phone call
that never happened
and keep walking.