Evanston: Ithaca (revised)
Evanston: Ithaca (revised)
I might have just written my first poem in several decades. I decided to post it and see what it looks like tomorrow. I may delete it then. But let it have at least a moment as a work in progress.
Ithaca, Illinois
Ulysses sits
in a condominium
in Evanston, Illinois.
Ithaca Midwest.
Surrounded by flatlands
and empty husks of stunted corn.
Before a fire,
listening to music,
a crystal glass
to his left
and contemplates the distant sea.
He holds the world in his mind.
He does not dream of his next voyage.
Dreams are for the young.
Ulysses sips smoke and plans.
“We owe the gods a death,”
some cried as they threw themselves
against the walls of Troy.
Ulysses does not agree.
He asked nothing of the gods
and owes them less.
Still death will come.
It should, he thinks.
That we have so little time
is our dignity.
The sea is in his glass.
Thursday, December 27, 2012