An Atrean Femicide – Jacob T. Reilly

          An Atrean Femicide

“Make me a Hercules,” the popstar sang
Trusting to synthesizers, radio,
Mixing, mastering, engineers, sound booths
In isolation, and of course Disney’s
Digital animation, for rhetoric
Or possibly just catchiness, Circe’s,
Sirens’ song. “I was meant to be a warrior,”
A crooning Clytaemnestra, she mouthed the mic
Like a harlot her lipstick. If she could see
The way she led herself into that room,
Muffled and locked to keep the soundings in,
Its insulation netting roof and walls,
Just as she hears her sanguine, scarlet song
Piercing her heart with such touching emotion
Again, again, again with each rise and fall
Of her voice, and if perhaps she knew her Greeks
A little better, she would know that all
She has of Heracles is manic craze.
She sings not for the myth of Heracles,
But for the history of Clytaemnestra,
A wanton wanting men, expressed by her
As wanting to be a man. Death to the old
Myth; sing to us, O popstar Pythia,
Of the new: woe of man, woman no more!

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One comment

  1. So I forget, are we allowed to comment here, or are we supposed to take it to the forum? Oh well. Great poem. I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner. Mixing popstars and Greek mythology is hilarious and ingenious.

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