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One of my few free verse poems, based on the Greek myth of Actaeon. From Wikipedia: "in Greek mythology, son of the priestly herdsman Aristaeus and Autonoe in Boeotia, was a famous Theban hero.[2] Like Achilles in a later generation, he was trained by the centaur Chiron."

Actaeon Still, on 2nd St.

Master_at_workby Michael Snider21 Mar 2019

Through the left-hand window the moon
Appears each night smaller, later,
Fainter, and finally, gone.
The third night of darkness
Its thin crescent appears
On the sine-wave of love and suicide—
I feel its sway in my genitals,
In my spine, in my legs and mouth.
Every night I forget my name,
Speak a language I never knew.
I want to steal a car
And drive madly west
To the Sierra Madre, to the Pacific,
But the moon is already there—
It is easy to name her Hunter.
I feel the horn in my brain.