Progelomenon for "Perseus," an unfinished work

...the snake
engulfed its
whole length

and its jaws
expanding to
their utmost

bore a broad
hot river of
bright stars

The universe
inverted and
we were born


•
•
•


Sliding, the
snakes twist

glide slowly
on and under

Ships: blind
in dense fog

turning over
each other's

extended gut
chest, limbs

Massive arms
bound as one


•


Strained the
hip-sheathed
straitjacket

An energy so
concentrated
to open; the

Tongue's tip
on the green
apple's skin

turns inward
...flowering
to the flesh


•


Bright's the
papered bark
of the birch

Sap of amber
running down
a white limb

Gartersnakes
slip through
pink fingers

Rose tongues
coiled round
copper flame


•


And she rose
the dentrite
form against
the tongue's

Thigh's jaws
clenching on
cheek's bone
Crush, grind

Gnashing her
circles then
Hammering on
broken teeth


•


Branch, twig
a camouflage

Hidden under
wet boulders

Outward eyes
shut tightly

Fork cutting
air, stubble

In the cross
of this path

Goddess, god
here conjoin


•


Tiresias saw
them twining

Parting them
with a stick

God, Goddess
inverted him

Male——female
Female——male

And an inner
sight befell

experience's
black vision


•
•
•



© Dan Goorevitch

Medusa

HE'S welcome
He may enter

Let him come
into my maze

like all men
have entered

Squirming: a
writhing dog

encrusted in
primal slime

leaking down
matted limbs

∙

Let him come
to my cavern

Let him come
to admire me

I have curls
to show him!

Lovely curls
so beautiful

So beautiful
they stiffen

not cock but
a whole body

∙

I understand
man's energy

His yearning
penetrations

For him I am
ever Elysium

His constant
loving bride

Let him come
with a pearl

to my diadem
of warm eggs

∙

I am waiting
for caresses

The hands of
his bold eye

on my breast
and my thigh

Ready to see
his erection

Hero Perseus
bred of Zeus

and of gold-
plated Danae

∙

He can be as
the Gods are

He can be an
Immortal One

He can be as
the spouting

stuff of his
proud pecker

Protean! Yet
lost forever

in the crack
of my cranny

. . .

© Dan Goorevitch

Perseus

HERE I stand
paralysed by
putrifaction

Everywhere's
this twisted

bowel, brain
quarry, prey

death-locked

and standing
in the teeth
of the stink
I take stock

Father, Zeus
Danae, nurse
I am Perseus

I'm the bolt
who revolved
and resolved
himself born

the very nut
wound 'round
silver strut
snake sprung
from the gut

The past now
the prophesy
my office is
to break the
outer clutch
of the shell
that cuts an
exposed foot
in search of
a pure pearl
chained fast
to the stone

So bright is
her sky that
tiny strokes
a paintbrush
plied on the
snowy canvas
lay a yellow
halo of hair
upon leg and
the underlip

Amber fibres
coil by coil
so that that
copper flame
framed round
the darkling
lip of bliss
and its bung
line by line
in that dawn
each exactly
the arrested
precision of
new daylight

Rosy fingers
of the bards
I've seen as
in our lodge
nipples rose
to sun-shaft
closing each
fierce wound
of this root
of humankind
throbbing in
a lonely bed

And I kissed
those pearls
that strayed
from spittle
and my mouth
sliding down
pulled sweet
at the lilac
as her mouth
caught at me
hot and cool
and she said

The world is

in spite its
seeming size

just a mural

and its wall
the mind, is

its mountain

to scale. If
she said, we

have courage

then come up
dear, ascend

My reverie's
an absurdity
a fat finger
clutching at
and prodding
til the taut
string limps

No fine line
image-strung
can aid, but
nth-drawn, a
wound-up gut

Her coven is
the covet of
connoisseurs
a gallery of
ossified men

I must stare
despite fear
face-to-face
where for me
the other is
a true scale
of the world

This is that
bright aegis
I will bring
to the panic
and at amber
shine of eye
reflecting a
hole of hell
all my sword
and my blood
will rise up
to the chaos

I, within me
revolved and
through this
I'm resolved

As I crawled
to the world
from my home
inside Danae
so I will to
the Gorgon's
and kill the
putrid bitch



© Dan Goorevitch

MIDAS' PSALM

The tower of
counted coin

the wheat of
my granaries

A paved road
for the cart

and the oxen
provided for

My men fitly
fed, attired

civil-minded
and mannered

•

Olive groves
in abundance

the orchards
fig and plum

Meat, fleece
of the lambs

Hecatombs of
fatted boars

A black bull
for the gods

Pyres raised
to the ether

•

Lush forests
yield timber

my shipyards
all business

Dawn to dusk
my potteries

the painters
well-trained

Black beasts
wrestle with

Heracles, in
red outlines

•



And my ships
bearing gold

to pay hands
--all skills

The guilds a
philanthropy

by every man
who advances

the pregnant
contour, hue

the craft of
his ancestor

•

And I savour
rich texture

of both clay
and tapestry

Spice of the
foreign land

Cinnabar for
a full table

Exotic cloth
for the wife

Peace--in an
orderly life

•

And my slave
is well-paid

his work not
too exacting

mind or body
not punished

if compliant
with the law

In every way
I am liberal

and civility
is my temper

•



And twilight
brings larks

to my garden
and vineyard

My forsythia
fresh yellow

Lilacs bloom
by the roses

Clematis and
ivy climb up

green crotch
of the trees

•

My starlings
flit & flirt

coquettes to
my eye, sore

bent over my
many ledgers

Line by line
the dull ink

this concern
and that one

Deluge after
drought, yet

•

My daughters
in fine wool

my sons hale
and handsome

The children
of my babies

the clenched
little fists

red-faced in
ornate tears

laughing are
pure delight

•



These are my
soil, my air

root, branch
shoot, bloom

quick growth
of my summer

wool blanket
to my winter

The arteries
of my health

and the pump
of my wealth

•

These hew my
soul's shape

No ink shows
it in tables

yet an order
built up and

in every way
sustained by

the tower of
counted coin

the wheat of
my granaries

•

Float, float
up to heaven

Midas's pure
sprung psalm

Holy Olympus
on its mount

down-clouded
azure, white

but its gods
heard "gold"

and "me" and

nothing else


© Dan Goorevitch