In the spastic chase of the Titans
the new gods forgot to build
a pleasant man, and kept us
in the cocoons of their imperfections,
leaving us smoldering with their envies and vengeances,
unfortunately bound to emotion and toil
and able to excel to their thrones to question their reins,
how dare we mock what has made us, no matter how imperfect!
We have been given heroes and so then hope
in our Hercules and the others, and they fight
our monsters, mirror images into what the gods have given us,
but what they apologize for in allowing them to be defeated.
Our Sisyphean struggle is our torment, but also our gift,
and those high Olympians knew that life was full of breath
and worth breathing, because our experience is worth having
and our lives, disheveled, worth living.
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