Troy 4

Hecuba

To be a queen was glory. Drank it all
sweet wine and rich, then bitter, then its lees
and dregs. Her husband Priam on his knees,
white hair turned red with blood. She saw Troy fall.

She saw her children die or raped or slaves.
She saw too much and then went barking mad
and cursed the Greeks. There’s sorrow beyond sad
and howls beyond lament, madness that raves

beyond unreason. Did not change her skin
to dog as some men said but leashed so tight
her grieving thoughts that snarling through the night
they hunted all of those who slew her kin.

Few Greek kings lived long. Fewer kings died well.
Their Trojan victims mocked their fates from hell.

Advertisements

About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s