The God Apollo cursed her, yet she went to heaven
|It was not at all what she expected.
Nor could she predict she’d reach the Blessed Isle
When all Apollo gave her was this curse.
How the Trojans yelled,
“Put the madwoman away”
When she charged at the wooden
Greek Gift horse with an ax
Even that truth too much to ask
She knew within,
Gifts can be taken away again.
City-surging soldiers can swarm out.
Trojan horse? Scream hoarse.
The city will fall, so it will fall.
Damn it all.
And how could heaven sway
When, in Athena’s holy ground,
Ajax ripped her skirt away.
What was worse?
How, seeing and foreseeing wars and murders
Could she see anything but Tartarus looming
Under Clytemnestra’s blade?
Yet she always saw, while living, what was true.