Odyssey Poem

Here's my poem from the last class.


Whatever was Tied to the Mast

“Whatever was tied to the mast
the waves have come— here they are:”
- Mary Ruefle


When they were finished they looked up and tried to remember what they had tied to the mast. A bottle of opalescent wings? A jaunt through the haunted forest by lamplight slash stagecoach? It could have been any number of mistakes. It could have been the baker who made the delicious bread. Or was it the stick above the well? They remembered trying to “do the right thing”. They remembered wrapping slabs of fat around the femur and eating handfuls of flowers in the moonlight. They were about to question what they’d done, but then the music started. If they had known what a waiting room was they would have picked up a magazine.