Cassandra

Cassandra 

Her speech stopped, not wild and erring

Now: an arrow's pierced its dreadful mark.

They called her once, "Wandering Hag,"

Prophetess of lies, the pest at every door.

She'd scented trails of blood shed long ago: 

Within the palace, ensorcelled chorus sings

Strains of bloody spells in beats and chants. 

Erinyes bend themselves then spray curses,

Each to each spitting out this ancient crime: 

"The Brother's Couch," a love incestuous, 

Even unforced brings hatred on its ravisher. 

With passion not joy, they sip their humans'

Scratches like wine, then flitter in the halls 

And never exit, a floating fury of the palace. 

[un/ready-made]