A Poem For Saturday

"The Agamemnon Rag" By Jack Conway:

Atlas, you’re Homer. I am so glad you’re Hera.   

Thera so many things to tell you. I went on that   

minotaur of the museum. The new display centaurs   

on how you can contract Sisyphus if you don’t use   

a Trojan on your Dictys. It was all Greek to me, see.

When I was Roman around,   

I rubbed Midas against someone. “Medea, you look like a Goddess,”   

he said. The Minerva him! I told him to   

Frigg off, oracle the cops. “Loki here,” I said.   

“In Odin times men had better manners.” It’s best to try   

and nymph that sort of thing in the bud. He said he knew   

Athena two about women like me, then tried to Bacchus   

into a corner. Dryads I could, he wouldn’t stop.   

“Don’t Troy with my affections,” he said.  

The poem continues here.

(Photo: A reproduction of an ancient Greek sculpture by archaeologist Vinzenz Brinkmann, which he insists is the original color of the statue.)