I know you
you’ve been seen around these parts before
son of Apollo or Zeus you’re turned-out
tumbling down from that blue gold vault
your celestine eyes blond flecks glinting they
flash like a coquette’s fan.

You are the stuff of odysseys and agonies
riven in quarters from that casting out
you are wounded and watched and wanted and legends
are the quarry of your ambition to prove your exile
unjust this makes you dangerous a lionized hazard
your vulnerability a siren’s come hither a lure and you
lorn and cocked you will surely shipwreck
gorgeously spent on this tragedy.