The Minotaur in Sussex

Judith Kazantzis

Far away, your Innocents

climbed in little strings

down ladders into

the drum ring heart

Back of the mighty stage

we saw the singers

dangle on spiny ladders

in darkness over what

must come, horny

bloody flux of the oddbody:

Then music and language

lit the flare - half and half -

opened the bellowing muzzle –

My own neighbour!

His eyes, broad brow,

shine from a beast’s cage.

O goodly John Tom,

where have you been?

Up to London, to the RO,

to roar, to sing –

Theseus heroic blow

etc. But your voice:

Animal, wistful,

Mineral, lonely

Rage, exitless,

rage, intellect,

rage of the oddbody -

You sang me

my night’s twists and turns,

climbing down, down.

So we sat there,

mocking ourselves

pitying ourselves:

Exitless, he speaks/

howls half death, half life,

When did we choose…?