Apokalypsis
when her head came off; the way
an apple is plucked from its stem
Medusa opened so completely—
her snakes held tight,
in his ghastly hand. Now
everything green is a graveyard
every boom breaking on the shore
an echo of her missing mother
far below her dead daughter—
two immortal sisters preen.
how they play with stone figurines
in this cavernous dollhouse,
pots of plague left on the burner—
uncomfortably alike
still singing away, hollow inside;
toothless descendants of dinosaurs
a cracked mirror
reflects molten sunset
all is quiet as a graveyard.
ashes swept along in runoff
her sisters’ mocking tools of trade;
lipstick tubes lethal as bullet casings
still blistering hot; Medusa’s throat—
pumps out her children
transformed into poetry and revenge,
naked, lidless, toughened
by abandonment. an empty fruit basket
centered on her unmade bed
her monster skin draped alongside.
from just this one senseless
exquisite cruelty, what we call vengeance
without redemption. What Perseus carries,
an unseeing mask. now dusk,
all sleepless golden. & her heart
unbeating, unconscious as the sky
deprived of light,
bleeds into night.
________________
Dale Champlin
Review by Peter Gordon
This is a breathtaking perspective on the Perseus and Medusa myth. We’ve always been taught Medusa is a creature of pure evil, but in this poem Dale Champlin uses her images and story telling to make the reader empathize with Medusa’s side of the story. Evocative images such as “everything green is a graveyard” and “children transformed into poetry and revenge” help the reader visualize the life and death stakes of the story.