The Minotaur’s Pardon

by


Half bull, you were,
half man, untamed.

Hard as they came,
in the days they came hard.

Requiring little:
red meat, tobacco,
and to be left alone.

Afraid of nothing
people said—
though we knew better.

For years we waited,
and then forgot that we were waiting,
for you to utter that redeeming word.

We forgive you, of course,
it being the way with blood,
and remembering, that like us,
you never had much of a father.





Cocaine Roman Blue Look of Hope