Minotaur
JD DeHart
In olden days, he waited
for the bravest. But they stopped
coming.
They were too distracted with
their mobile devices, their games,
and hardly went outside
anymore.
Soon, he declared, it was time
to stop waiting, for he had not
been killed and respawned
in decades.
So, the fearsome one strode
from his sanctum. He observed
the bright lights of existence,
took in a few shows,
and experienced the miracle
of television.
He found a plastic mold action
figure of himself.
Beleaguered, he took a job
cleaning a shopping complex
at night (it was feared he would
scare away customers in
daylight).
Now, he sits, dreaming of his
labyrinth, remembering the taste
of steel, and meditating
on the glory of the old days.
As we all do.
Previously published at Poems and Poetry Blog.
JD DeHart
In olden days, he waited
for the bravest. But they stopped
coming.
They were too distracted with
their mobile devices, their games,
and hardly went outside
anymore.
Soon, he declared, it was time
to stop waiting, for he had not
been killed and respawned
in decades.
So, the fearsome one strode
from his sanctum. He observed
the bright lights of existence,
took in a few shows,
and experienced the miracle
of television.
He found a plastic mold action
figure of himself.
Beleaguered, he took a job
cleaning a shopping complex
at night (it was feared he would
scare away customers in
daylight).
Now, he sits, dreaming of his
labyrinth, remembering the taste
of steel, and meditating
on the glory of the old days.
As we all do.
Previously published at Poems and Poetry Blog.
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