ULYSSES
and the SIRENS
 

by
Corrine De Winter
 
 
 

The scene was almost innocuous-
A trio of ethereal beauties
Clamoring at the hull of the ship,
Mouths open wide imploring
With song,

Water pumping beneath the oars
In a steady accompanying beat.
But Ulyssses, fortified
With strength and inner wisdom
Was firmly lashed to the mast,
His crew's ears
Stuffed with beeswax.
The men collectively turned
The whites of their eyes
Toward the sirens,
Focusing anywhere
But on their mist-pale thighs,
Their sea blown tresses
And soft musical commotion.

Ulysses must've imagined
In those few infernal minutes
That hell must have a ride
A lot like this.