ODYSSEUS ALONE


I have clanked
through the sulfur-breath
and shut my ears
to the dead; I
confronted the baggy buttresses
of your face, mother.
How do you think that sat with me?

I crouched in the wood guts
and watched a babe
amid the trojan revel.
How do you think it sat, that sticky reek
between the fingers, that furious joy,
that small soft head
on the stones?

I am a man.
How do you think it sits with me,
that I know no gods
but those who fling blood in my face.