What can I do with my remaining
time?
Calarel has retired into the woods with her maidens.
I’ll retire too so as not to be a peeping Tom.
Watching in an exhausted frame
of mind—
my step’s uncertain and my path is faded—
wondering what I can do with all the time
that remains to me between now
and my end.
Can I disguise myself like Odysseus in the bower of maidens—
discovered when he clapped his knees together to catch a ball of yarn.
Penelope weaving and unweaving
her skein,
spinning the thread of the nights she’s waited,
while her beloved was spending his time
on other pursuits—blinding
the Cyclops and smoking his moly
root. Was Odysseus a listening Tom
when he made his crewmen
lash him to the mast so that he could hear the sirens?
What can I do with my remaining time?
Only shut the fuck up so I won’t be a babbling Tom!
