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Fickle Muses an online journal of myth and legend
Two poems by Cassandra Labairon
Hera Spies on Zeus From the Corner Booth at the Diner
He says to the slight dear, you know darling,
His leaving is the tide. Him I have loved even
murder the madness of love. Still. I watch him
at his wit. Ha. I have been that woman, almost.
half of his words. Test them. I dare you. Instead
the other side. He likes the way a moon pulls.
and not wanting. Belief and Disbelief. Waitress
out the back door. I walk to the table where
one day. To save her from bacon and cold coffee.
He wants one. And so. She arrives in her gold
will be the pretence of buses, city streets, culture
the bullshit. A tree is a tree, urban or suburban,
of a man ready for relief. Imagine the woman
you letters lost for years. Imagine the only sound
of the highway, cadences new because distance
want to live, break loose of loss and longing? She
land. Kneel to beauty. Bold need. Can you be bold?
ease. Don’t expect to fake it because you’re afraid.
She can fall for the unenlightened mortal but that fall,
lost. Hello. I have a car that will take