You will not find what you seek
in the steep streets of Ilium
Homer
He’s married. You know
that marks him beyond desire
and marks his circumspect attentions
faulty. I whisper at lunch to you
that no good will come and listen
to you wonder deliciously what’s wrong
between him and his lovely wife.
There’s nothing wrong.
They all have lovely wives and married eyes
that show caution to the wind.
They fear you a little.
They fear your fresh laughter, their desire
for you, and what they want to do.
It is not one woman he fails
to give to now but two. Instead
of surrender you share a dream
in which he finds himself with you.
Vain friend: Circe and Calypso too
were each once beautiful as you.