Issue 222, Fall 2017
Ποικιλόθρον᾽ α᾽θανάτ᾽ Αφρόδιτα
—Sappho, Fragment 1
I gather you were in the lobby
Terrifying to almost see you again.
I smelled the shockwave, the burning air.
You were too sexual
To be bourgeois, screams from the jungle
On top of Mount Olympus.
You were too violently beautiful.
Last night I looked up at the sky,
Lights out as I was falling asleep.
There was the moon, a full moon, or nearly.
It was you.
I wasn’t, but I could have been,
A god I was living in.
I chose not to come out
Onstage and tell them what a poem is about.