Venus Holds Sway Over the Cyprian Heights

Cypri munimenta sortita est

Trapped in the tub

by rain this morning,
course charted
by sirens, thence outward
and unto Circe
(but why does Pound have
Odysseus sail backwards?);
the whole crew
would troop to shore
after those hellcats,
tawny voices
stopped in beeswax—
I alone hearing
the forbidden strains,
but I can’t move my limbs.