deep in the poets imagination
the streets of corinth still bustle on warm nights
merchants pack up their stalls
some empty handed
some purses stuffed full
some now too tired to care
the air is full of ancient rocknroll
some cat layin’ down a loada soul on his lyre
the last dying chorus of a play
a bunch of senators cross the square talking earnestly
in poseidons great temple a voice murmurs a humble prayer
other voices join in in assent repeating the words
asking for fair seas and abundant fish
asking for the safe return of their ships
the fat from a calf flares in the fires
libation of wine
offering of devotion
in the temple of aphrodite
ajax white fucks a black priestess
he bites her neck as he does his thing
i dunno i mean hes paid her and everything
but he doesnt understand a word shes saying
and she says plenty
in some outlandish tongue summoning the goddess of love
to come and feed on this lust which she commends
into her hands
old venus eternally young
eternally pink and rosy and shapely and comely
with her pale nipples and her dark places
weakest yet most powerful of all
she comes hurrying away from cytherea
she comes gathering her clothes around her
she comes all around them in points of light
she comes in the milky opalescence of the ancient stars
she comes in the sudden hum in the dome
she comes in the wavering candles and dancing shadow
she comes in the movement of the lovers
she comes through the ether tho she be many leagues away
she comes down the ages wearing her one thousand and one names
she comes laughing and smiling
she comes blushing like the youngest maid
she comes uttering lewd words
she comes among men and they think they are in some heaven
ajax white lies there exhausted
fuck! he says
the priestess pours more nepenthe
and they both sip thoughtfully as night deepens around the city
fuck! he says again
as he lies back
and closes his eyes
forever