Athena Looks at the Body of Paris

EDITED -- 3/5/12 -- added a stanza -- it's a work in progress...what can I say?


So we’ve come to this at last.

I wish I could tell you that I feel
some surprise and not see you
as just another incarnation of loss
another turning of a wheel
that has spun too many times before.

See, I knew I’d be standing here
studying your shattered perfection
the day I knocked on your door
made you the offer I’ve given
to grateful heroes and wandering kings
to semi-divine legends and epic-fodder
and you hesitated.

If I’m honest
(and I like to be)
I knew you’d turn me down
even before I laid my hand
against that which separated us.

Like so many before you
something lush and blonde
that comes just to your shoulder
wears scanty silks instead of armor
gives no clever answers
cares more about her manicure
than great mysteries
and makes war only in your bedroom
was more important to you
than anything I could give.

Your graceless futile drama has unfurled
a tattered faded flag unraveling in tempest winds
and you have had all the pleasure one could expect
of your particular pursuit.

Everything that could have been is done now.
The last of you spills across the sands
a drink offering to the deity you enthroned
one who is not now moved
could not rescue
even if she were.

Stupid, wasted, poured-out princeling.
What made you believe
that ridiculous gilded apple
was ever the thing I was trying to save?

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By me, today.  This idea won't leave me alone.  I don't even rightly know where it comes from.  There is no story about Athena coming back to Paris after the whole Trojan War is over and done with.  For some reason, though, this particular conversation, or bits of it, have been kicking around in my head for days.  I am booting it here to make it leave me alone.  Comments would be very much welcomed, even the anonymous ones.