FRAGMENT OF A GREEK TRAGEDY

PHILOCTETES

I am Philoctetes, the stout-hearted son of Poeas

and the keeper of mighty Heracles’ bow and arrows.

On their way to Troy the Greeks abandoned me here

on this remote and rocky isle untrodden by mortals.

For a snake had bitten my foot and they couldn’t endure

the sound of my shrieks and the smell of my festering flesh.

For nine years now I’ve been all alone and hungry,

clad in rags and sleeping on the ground.

For nine years now I’ve also been rejoicing

in my freedom from those inhuman humans –

those brave boys, the Hellenic Armed Forces,

those heroes off on a Special Military Operation

to bring the hostage Helen home again,

eradicate the Trojan cockroaches and topple the lofty

towers of Troy in clouds of smoke and dust.

Humans are fangs and claws, as gentle as wolves,

have hissing, spitting snakes in their Styx-black hearts.

Man worships war, loves hurting and maiming and murdering.

He wants your wealth, women, country, so he’ll kill you.

He hates your language, clothes, food, so he’ll kill you.

Wherever he places his feet, grass dies, earth bleeds.

When Aias got drunk and revealed the truth about Helen,

I searched for a snake and got it to bite me free.

So here I am, sequestered, caressed by quietness,

an ocean away from the hateful human race –

those shallow, senseless, soulless children of stone.

Here I don’t have to look at or talk to anyone.

If I want to speak, I address the waves there and they

are deaf and don’t – oh shit: a ship.

If they set foot on this island, I’ll shoot the fuckers.

See it. Spray it. Sorted.

Rodney nods at the mirror

and tells himself

he’s looking good

and smelling good.

He parrots:

‘Bye-bye swampy, bye-bye stenchy,

hello fresh, hello fragrant.’

His nether regions

don’t reek of secretions,

his private parts

don’t stink of farts.

Now it’s always springtime below his belt.

His bollocks smell of hollyhocks,

his willy of lily,

his bum of plum.

He knows the ladies will be

electrified, mesmerized,

captivated, dominated.

He knows tonight’s the night,

tonight he’ll get a woman at last,

tonight he’ll find an Eden,

a garden of earthly delights,

an English country garden

and plant his lily in it.