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The Legend in Andromeda
Two hundred million years that galaxy Has nested on the brilliant bough Of chained Andromeda. My infancy Diminishing; a patch of melting snow; I stand so far from it a billion stars Are nothing but a smudge of smokey light. That Whale? Its skeleton still hulls the shore; I heard it suffocate one winter night. My father left for easier excalibars; My mother looked in all the local bars. I keep repeating: What's a father for? Can anybody recollect his face? Perseus is almost at meridian; I constellate its stars, and try to trace The features of what must have been a man. Hero holds a woman's severed head, Algol, Demon star, Medusa, Ghoul; Had she vipers in her hair, a living mop? I've known too many women used like fuel, Their warmth is life, their light is bread, The planets sleep at the foot of their bed. How then can her eclipse have cursed the crop? My father rushed to rescue women on the rocks As heroes must. Do other sons look up tonight, Fierce blood of crippled hawks He cast from that high nest of light?- I too was banished from my father's eyes, And tore at life as at my father's liver. Hands that pitied me still bear the scars. Now break those chains! Set free the fire-giver! Prometheus must Perseus revise; I come to power in forbidden skies By rearranging all my father's stars.