Complaint of Achilles' Heel
By Charles Jensen
Everyone's so quick to blame my
tenderness. My wound opening like a mouth
to kiss an arrow's steel beak.
A beautiful man, now, plants his face
in Trojan sand while I tell
the secrets of his body--
make the ground red with truth.
Red with the death of Achilles, felled
by an arrow's bite when nothing--
nothing--could puncture his Kevlar skin.
Everyone skips ahead to the moral: don't
be a heel. For just one day I felt
sun where the chafing bonds of sandal
should have been. Without me, he'd be
just more fodder for the cannon.
I made him a hero, Troy's poster
boy. Everyone forgets I was part of him,
I needed him--that even as he died,
I tasted each pulse--
that I could not hold back its rush of red
birds or the season to which they flew.
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After having tried to be polite about it all day, I would like to note that the US government (and the US media) is full of assholes. So I am cranky and will keep this short. Paul worked from home and the fact that this was the last day all the James Bond movies were On Demand and recordable had nothing at all to do with that fact. Adam had cross country and a practice SAT and lots of homework, so I did not see a great deal of him. I saw one bunny, no deer, but many chipmunks and squirrels busy preparing now that the weather's turning.
I am pissed off about the IOC not giving a crap about gays at the Olympics. I am extremely pissed off at my Democratic congressman who is most definitely not part of the solution. I am pissed off at Helen Fielding, and I didn't even read the books or like the movies. I did like tonight's Sleepy Hollow a lot, but The Blacklist has all sorts of condescending sexism built into it and has all the sorts of stories I only put up with on Nikita because Nikita herself is so awesome. Here are pics from the Renfaire on Sunday of things besides Mediaeval Baebes:
Shakespeare's Skum performing Tag-Team Romeo & Juliet.
Barely Balanced performing acrobatics.
Deborah Rose singing Celtic music.
A brass band performing medieval music.
Me at the Cursing Well (I had no pennies, so I didn't curse anyone).
Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon greet visitors to their realm.
A Fool Named O and Lala tell fortunes for audience members and themselves.
Ladies of the court demonstrate Renaissance dance.
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