Aulis
King Agamemnon,
most astute of duelists,
his hand on false science
and beauty,
prepares to preside over
his fierce and lawless tribe;
bamboozling fancy effects
out of the evening sun
by happy chance
of light and shade.
A snow-white maid.
Gods approve:
the flimsy robe
doesn't conceal
naked
pulchritudinous
boobs.
Avast! The sacrificial axe,
captivating unwieldy kinsmen
and black and cherry-cheeked allies
descends through eons,
fit to kill,
like the lightning of fantasy.
“Little that is lovely is safe,“
“Cave canem,"
the more educated lions in the
crowd sentimentalize
after the bloody act,
and the wind,
cathartic and unwearied,
the prize,
blows painfully hot.
The coast is clear.
