In a Glass of Absinthe Mixed with Trojan Blood

In a Glass of Absinthe Mixed with Trojan Blood

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

The oldest Homer, blind or not, might see

That caves of poetry are where the dark

And torches, wavering with black, agree.

The chasms that they share are not as stark

As priestesses imagine in their truth

And lies.  To slam the flame beside an owl,

To press a sacred heart against a tooth

Brings out a priest castrated in a cowl.

The later Homers not quite blind, half blind

Instead, have learned that if their words confuse

Their readers then the phrases when combined

Produce the trance forbidden by clear views.

  The brat-like Rimbaud thinks that he has found

    That vowels are drugged up colors made of sound.

Phillip Whidden