by Lori Lasseter Hamilton
“Men seldom make passes
at girls who wear glasses.”
--Dorothy Parker
Medusa won’t don Vulcan’s goggles.
She wants each Percy gazing until he’s iron ore,
until Red Mountain swallows every man
into its hematite side.
When Perseus flew Zeus’s sword toward her throat,
the virgin priestess cried.
The gorgon grabbed goggles
spattered with Danae’s son’s blood,
a stoplight warning each Percy to walk in his winged sandals away,
because even the god of the forge’s goggles, made thick with polycarbonate,
won’t save men from Medusa’s face.
Website: Facebook
No comments:
Post a Comment