Charles Simic

(1938 / Belgrade)

My Weariness of Epic Proportions - Poem by Charles Simic

I like it when
Achilles
Gets killed
And even his buddy Patroclus -
And that hothead Hector -
And the whole Greek and Trojan
Jeunesse dorée
Are more or less
Expertly slaughtered
So there's finally
Peace and quiet
(The gods having momentarily
Shut up)
One can hear
A bird sing
And a daughter ask her mother
Whether she can go to the well
And of course she can
By that lovely little path
That winds through
The olive orchard


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, June 24, 2017



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