I. Orpheus

My dog flees from pluckèd strings;

her fleas command my tune.

What hollow body holds a rhyme

as long as my neck’s breath?

I could domesticate myself,

but in taming our lions

we tame our pride.

II. Abel

My brother is his brother’s keeper.

I am uncle to no abomination.

As we lay in the Garden,

(our hair in the earth)

I question:

Is Heaven above

because our heads are the seat of doubt, or

because our feet are the root of evil?

III. Hector

I was not breast fed.

I am not a fountain.

I will not hector you.

IV. Adam

Even if He and I practice Our secret handshake

in the Sistine Chapel;

Even if He sends me an angelic bath basket

with ambrosial soul cleanser

and holy bubble bombs

(courtesy of The Body Shop);

Even if I am the round reflection

of an ever-changing God;

I still have to ask:

Is Heaven above?

Because my head is the seat of doubt.

V. Odysseus

Poseidon hardly even knows me.

An idle king in heart

reigns with a swift lead open hand.

Life’s lees are far too bitter,

far too deep,

and the wine is corked.

VI. Atlas

The sky may fall;

the stellar sphere may crash with all its weight

and music;

god(s) may smite;

the clouds may freeze and bury me;

the sun may swallow me whole;

leaves may drop and leave me bare;

the mist may soak my skin;

I raise my arms only to catch

that snowflake that dares drift upward.