PEGASUS IN LOGOS
Hunted in his wingspread glory
from Mythos'sapphire skies
for contravening laws of flight and reproduction,
condemned as baseless legend
while metal birds assault the skies
and the helixes of albatross
are decked with equine genes,
his feathers moult and clog the toxic creek of Hippocrene
that trickles under concrete towers;
he cannot know that hemlock creeps
invasively through the smog
of Logos, cannot see his ideal form cavort
on celluloid or cyber-waves,
and yet he hears Medusa's voice,
disembodied in the cloak of Perseus
calling, calling, with serpent tresses writhing:
Fly, Peg. Fly!
Exhibited as part of the 2001 National Poetry Day Cross-arts
exibition at the Republic Hotel. |
