“Cyclops (Blinded by Odysseus)”
[A monologue in blank verse by Paul Burgess]
[painting: Polyphemus, Johan Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein]
…More like a twig or crunchy bread than bone—
Reducing them to mush, I didn’t strain
My jaws on brittle bones as slight as theirs.
One man provided meat too scarce to hush
The growling beast inside my angry gut.
Who would expect the hero Ulysses—
Of prophecies divining tragedy—
To be the head of men a mouthful’s size?
Though blind, there’s something that I clearly see:
The cause of drastic effects might be small.
[A second attempt to explore the scene also examined in this poem:
At some point, I will likely try again to bring out the possible layers of interpretation contained in this classic scene from Homer.