Tiresias

Here is the third of my contributions to Nicky Morton’s Transformations, a reworking by several poets of Ovid’s Metamorphoses.

——

Tiresias

I’m tired.
Don’t talk to me.

The headaches are worse.
Real blinders.
They’re particularly bad
when I’m trying to get dressed in the morning.
I can’t think.
Can’t tell if I’m holding a shirt or a skirt.

I can’t explain it.
I’m living a half life,
between one thing and another. Nothing feels right.

I haven’t had an erection in months.

Whenever the room darkens further I see
a mirror cracking,
a face trapped
in its deadly geometry.

Don’t talk to me.

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4 thoughts on “Tiresias

  1. I love this piece :D. Love it’s modernness and the shirt or skirt moment. Feels like it is delving into a place where masculinity has become confused and speechless, love it.

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