O Apollo and your possibilities! We are Dionysus’ agents, Maenads, all of us.
Bleed the wild, drink its blood, us and Nature votively enwove.
Tomorrow that acts Today as Today as Yesterday,
These are Death’s days;
And each day transitions into Death (of deaths we have so many)
That we mistake each day for our true Life (I was unprepared to die so many).
Yes, Authority, follow that out candle!
Ours is the time of Draughts! ruling crosswise,
Dissipating powerfully and Power.
Life is for the Maenads and the Satyrs and the Pans.
S. T. Brant is a teacher from Las Vegas.
Pubs in/coming from Door is a Jar, Santa Clara Review, Rain Taxi, New South, Green Mountains Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Ekstasis, 8 Poems, a few others.
You can find him on Twitter @terriblebinth or Instagram @shanelemagne.