The minotaur was a loner linguist lost
and amazed among the noisy Cretans.
He lived outside himself, a kind of ghost
on the dark borderline, weatherbeaten.
A scholar with scoliosis, thoughts bent
toward the raging cascade of colonial
intrusions, new conquistadors zap-sent
by brain trusts of the pharisaical.
.
From Assos you see Lesbos, cup of tea,
wash of blues, choban salatas, and
the soft mythopoesis of the sea;
think: Ayn Rand running naked in the sand.
.
We live between the edges of lost times,
worlds driven by shape-shifting paradigms.
