Apparently we were both destined
to take in the classics this week.
You, through amethyst flowers
and red leather shoes,
Me through eldritch retellings
and haunting sounds.

The Iliad, and its detailed recounting
of the many ways a man can be killed
in ancient battle.
And the many ways the words
have changed, and the meanings lost.
Two types of death.

Clytemnestra, here somehow both reduced
and augmented, by appearing
as an articulated puppet.
Singing in a forlorn voice,
covering her eyes, and sweeping from
the stage.

How can I write of sounds none have heard before?
Of sights heretofore unseen?
Of voices, singing in a tongue never spoken?
Of stories, familiar but strange,
but which may never be told again?

Ah, to experience the very soul of another!
That is, indeed, an initiation into mysteries.

February 4, 2011, Los Angeles


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