Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Sep 4
1 min read
A new poem by Anthony Capildeo
They’ll ask you not to
write this poem how
the wine-dark image
of the Homeric sea
cleared up sour claret
to their mind’s glass eye
when you said how red
how purple sea gives
back the sun itself
apocalypsed or
documentary when
whalers spill whales’ blood.
That colouring that
bothers them. You home
in on their Homer?
Nothing in nature
should outdo his words!
Whose young men set out
on past adventures
just as our saints did
fit men in small boats.
