The Gift of Power

I find I cannot remember why
Perseus wanted to slay
Medusa.

"Hubris,"
you say.
"Was he want of reason?"

I laugh nervously
with my bitter Americano
absent of sugar.
Steaming.

The treachery of bastions
is their will to say,
"There's a gorgon!"
when it's a ruddy faced child
with wispy locks

that smiles
and smiles
so widely
as the sun behind waves
and fans her fair hair
into glowing, virulent snakes.



This poem in response/in conjunction to Laboratorium posting"Here We Go Again," blogged on Monday, August 15, 2005.