still knocking on
the sphinx's door waiting for
oracles at
Delphi I watch as
Oedipus munches tuna on
rye. after all these years
you'd think he'd get it
right instead of
pawning his
wristwatch on
barren streets. barefoot and
hungry in need of
a new wardrobe, or
hemisphere, I join him
quickly discover
etheric quality of
human sweat as thunder rolls by.
disabuse yourself of passion-
he tells me-
only the blind can saviors be.
© 2004 - Jayne Lyn Stahl