Minos thinks he’s smarter than the sea
but you can’t keep a bull like
that in your basement
and not expect your wife to fuck it.
He teased me with his muscle-car hubris:
Why not take the wheel myself?
I’ll sculpt a ship, a fortress, a maze
of skin, leave a hole open
for that animal to penetrate,
feed my ruddy soil with its almighty seed.
What rough beast is born of our coupling
will suckle at my breast
swaddled in unraveling leagues
of my sea-like hair.
And the milk on my child’s tongue
will be sweet, so sweet
of all that’s forbidden.