Minoan Snake Goddess
P Patti Masterman
0
Altın Yaprak
Long black robe of the house dress
And the animal that decorates her
Waits at the end of a strap
Instead of atop her stone head
At night the snakes seem lively
Serpentine extensions of her short arms
She belches brimstone and mutters endless
Half-baked deprecations
As she staggers to the john
The alcoholic elixir tangling her brains axions
Bellow and curse fall randomly
On furniture, carpet, and sleeping creatures
Her dangling breasts sway to no metered ritual
She is the artifact now of a dead civilization
Still trying to convince herself she was once the epitome
Of feminine courage and power
Her worshipers now just sleeping dust
Her idols cracked faience, with white rimmed eyes
She lurches along her slowed down calendar
Slogs drunkenly through the wavering pestilence
That has become her life
Maybe she senses that at the end
When she has sucked out every ounce of energy and truth
From everything she's ever touched
The snakes will turn inward and devour her completely
And only her footprints remaining on weary earth.
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