story624.xml

story624.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-05-17

DRINKING AT THE MUSES' FOUNTAIN ON WILLOWED HELICON1 NEW YORK

Some three months and eleven days
Before the winter solstice's
Zenith in the high point of the whir -
The Tropic of Capricorn, the mark's
Marveled miracle of winter's mood
Of becalmed wind and seas, the food
Of peace for man and his heaving heart,
The crested hair of the kingfisher...
Standing up like a marine's head for Christ,
This fabled bird and his kin, God's way
And gold icon - sun- bright halcyon...
There crossed our States four jets of hate,
High-jacked by bin Laden's death men
Who crashed into the Twin Towers pens
For Pegasus, the winged steed
Whose brushing hoof Phoenixed the ashes3 lead.
Brave men were sacrificed for freedom
Against the Attilla the Huns
Of today, Pakistan's terrorists
Who slew the arts and the Arabs' kisses,
Hate for our Constitution's vote
For government's fight against goats,
Tragedy's hamartia the felons,
Dantean devils who pitch-forked eons
Of firemen, police and others...
Love's ki~, care1 and ken's brothers,
These criminals who thought they'd cream
Pegasus's Muses' Hippocrene.

C copyright 2001