Blue
dilution
of a middle-
aged divinity –
balding – though
still moderately muscular –
if ignorant of all his antecedents
save the vaguely recollected sense
Olympus had a kind of charm for kids –
Hermes, that hot streaking whiz who’d haul
him shrieking through the air – hanging on to
those winged heels! – too many thousand years
ago to care, or know much more than: something
reels when he hangs naked off the yellow ersatz
marble column this gay bar in Vegas gives him
to make like a chill recumbent gladiator on
a break. Okay, he’s on the take (past
what he pays the pimp): okay,
he’s got
a limp.
but hey,
how often
does a mortal
get to say he’s done it
with a – hey, well, he won’t say.
(Or: how you spent the day reflecting
on how you’ll be sixty this upcoming May.)
.
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