Medusa

Pinned beneath the snakeskin of the male gaze
She felt unstable, brazened, cradled in that way that women talk
As the politics of envy carves this fable
Washed, Poseiden looked unstable 
Crashed his hands upon the table 
Resolute. No longer able 
To accept another label
Redder flags than Cain and Abel 
She’s unable 
Anymore to listen to the painful, playful music of the spheres


Poseidon rises idly as Medusa’s used to
Little better than his weak, unfettered, wettened hue
Even if he does control the waves and deeper blues
The term ungodly oddly crosses both her mind and this sea view
Reminds herself quite reasonably that treason comes to kings before a coup 
Reminds herself that though he wholly uses language of control  
This choppy, stormy, horny rock and roll star 
Never really could inflict the scars 
To punish her the way that Sisuphus foretold
Reminds herself again that waves can break, for goodness’ sake
Displeased, the sea god’s wrath could kraken waken
Make no mistake you’re not forsaken 
That bastard may control the seas 
He can’t break you


Needing just a little headroom 
She wakes to see Athena’s bedroom
Realising she needs to leave soon
Medusa’s future self reflected all that happened next beneath Selene’s moon
Dreaming that she not been seen there
By Athena
In the Queen’s glare, everything begins to change


Set serpentine as turpentine, the poison through her veins
The twist in her indifference didn’t match, as yet, the fury of her name
Trapped in sap an amber vampire rambles
Through this vanity of campfires
Begins to frame another way to win a wicked game 
Where her curls unfurled the heavens lightly syphoned off the same 
Marble stone in place of serotonin only letting keratin
Tighten into whitening pythons  
Iced across her scalp like arctic ships
Formed in thalassocracy 
Tongues like lightning forked and frightening
Twix, between the devil and the deep blue sea


Styx and stones may break the boatman’s hold upon the ocean 
Don’t then doubt then duly punished, undiminished 
Now a mortal daughter of primordial immortals 
She swore her oath to Gorgon siblings
Impervious to bows and slings
Mother to a horse with wings
Medusa faced the horror of the horror of the thing


She’d never rest on her ophidian laureate   
Never rest in Elysian Fields
Even later when decapitation faced her once she’d faced herself inside his shield
On reflection Perseus’ courtesy was gory
Told in Orpheus’ song of glory - stuff of stories 
Gratefully memento mori 
Only granite glances sideways might devise ways to reveal the way she feels


To look from me to you, Medusa
And in the mirror, look from you to who you could have been 
Far from me to ask that you forgive a gargoyle 
Forgive yourself for only snakeoil made you seem obscene  
Sometimes you need a second guess to read a history
To gather all the shadows of a story’s entourage 
Allow them all to sit and share where fallow flames flick 
For on the wall, we can’t tell who the monsters are