Klytemnestra In Old Age (Poem)

her features sharpened to a knife’s edge

her voice given over to vinegar’s bite

her gaze still meets like the first freeze of autumn

she has no more reasons for softness’ pretense

the falseness of honeyed concern

once again she is free from usual constraint

keep close watch and take heed

else she might burn the house down around her

again, and as before laugh at the devastation

do you care if your children scream in the flames

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