We enter the god-forsaken grave
by the unnaturally dead Horse
we move according to the
Trojan Law of mirage
to see time’s emptiness
the rubble of Olympus’ family feuds
unsatisfied like sleepwalkers
embracing only hot air
its magnetism and oxygen discharged
What of the gods and goddesses?
They are heaped in new godless temples
their penises worn
by lustful caresses
sweaty testicles
teats and clitorises dried up
by lustful looks
with pained grimaces
and silent cries
nightly
when silence falls like a guillotine
when all is empty and finally dead
they mortally grieve
for their lofty pedestals
their Doric grandeur
seeking blood-sacrifice
to wash their antique, their rheumatic feet
Troy, Pergamum, Ephesus, 1984