Limited, Inc.

My Christmas poem. Upbeat - not.   Palinurus It was the age of golden coincidences. That night, when I fell from the deck It was not, to my surprise, the wine dark sea Received me, but an undertow of milk Dragged me through the panics of the birth canal We woke to screams along the street Flames taking the palace walls. Our faces flickered As we streamed out of the South Gate Hidden in the Goddess’ hand. First things last Nursery rhymes turned to ash in our mouths Have you ever seen the farmboy kill The cubs of the rat, by chance uncovered in the barn. He raises the shovel and one two three Swift successive blows batter down At once the entire dim lineage. Such were our faces. Down to the water then. Our leader spoke Only of things of the ship We crossed the rippling shadow cast By what seemed impossible to overthrow Walls built by giants and by gods. All at once I thought, everything that could be lost Would be. Which is why