Orpheus Intervention
by Will Nixon
Only Orpheus believed that Charon cared more
for his music than for the coin warm in his hand
but as good as cold on the tongue. Poor Eurydice,
the wood nymph hatched from her tree by his lyre,
she had no intention of following him into the light,
not this cocky star who'd charmed his way into Hades.
Oh, Orpheus, can't you see? Had she come back,
she would have disappointed the rest of your days.
The living are never as fine as the dead. They fart,
and they don't understand why you believe poetry
will solve anything, why you're not harvesting hay.
Looking back was the first smart thing you've done.
Now, young man, pull your soggy severed head out
of the sea, put it back on, preferably with a haircut,
and quit whispering Eurydice Eurydice, a name
no one has used in centuries. Your lyre is broken.
The future is here. Your credit card is ready.
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