Like Odysseus
by Ruth Pena
White rabbit with headphones,
snaps at your tailgate, choking on fumes
from your speeding truck.
Grip the wheel firmly.
Don't let his stopwatch catch you.
Beware proud Scylla's six versions of reality.
At the edge of Charybdis, the vortex of pity,
show compassion, mind your prayers,
but turn up your IPod,
drown out the Sirens
lest you turn into a pig.
Flee the hypnotic X-Box, high-tech lotus blossom
that numbs you with satisfaction, enervates your will.
Swerve sharply from Lystragonian friendships,
wrestle their clinging hands away,
floor the gas pedal,
escape the strangle hold.
Like Odysseus, approach the Underworld
with reverence and courage,
allow only the loving Shades of your youth
to gather round you,
to drink a drop of sacrificial blood
for a minute's worth of real time.
They have something to say,
Tattoo it on your brain.
They've only two conditions:
Make friends with the rabbit who never lets up-
And don't look back at sacrificial ashes.
