from my bathroom tiles, wailing
his defiance and fiery nightingale burning
with his tongue still unrooted
and his limbs bound to the rock, spread
like wings – Titan of the windfall, humanity’s
hope and champion, more brilliant than
his dumb and primitive siblings, more committed
than their arrogant and willful offspring.
Prometheus in the shower curtain, dripping
liquid fire down the drain, plunging
into the underworld depths
then up for a greater torment to meet the predator bird,
dispelling all screams and ghosts and holding tight
to his suffering-throne and his compassion
for such a flawed creation.
Prometheus finally rescued
as the warm water exerts itself from on high,
– strong Herculean flow –
the wounded centaur accepting his fate.
trustworthy, burning, speaking
your conquering gospel,
the first crucifixion
the first flame ignited
before love’s great inception.
Copyright © 2020 by Allison Grayhurst
First published in “As It Ought To Be Magazine” September 2020
You can listen to the poem by clicking below: