Friday, September 26, 2014

The Bronze Age

Slaying The Minotaur

The Bronze Age

I see you believe
the sweet and gentle white lie
of the rope that winds
through the endless halls
with knots that mark time, mark us
as if we were once
knot and once again
will be knot but for now we
are swift and fleeting.

I would believe too
but I was told face to face
that I was to stop
such blather right now
(which was long long long ago).

Oh, I remember
the bronze minotaur
and the bloody dark red spoor,
the flood leaving me!
Me! sere on the floor
over twenty eons past
and magi after
telling time stories
to confound the western priests
for the fun of it.

‎April ‎24, ‎2014 10:28 PM

Writing in response to Irene Toh

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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