Cash Myron Toklas
There is a man with fifty heads and a hundred hands
Who lies under the bed
And a one-eyed man beneath the floor.
It has been this way for as long as any of my children can remember,
And my children are now grown,
swallowed,
vomited,
and grown some more.
There is a man with fifty heads and a hundred hands who lies under the bed
And a one-eyed man beneath the floor.
Lua, the goddess of destruction, wipes her yellow cheek against the windowpane
And tells me that I should be afraid.
Rhea, my wife, tells me that I should be afraid
Of the goddess of destruction who wipes her yellow cheek against the windowpane.
There is a man with fifty heads and a hundred hands who lies under the bed,
A one-eyed man beneath the floor,
And a goddess of destruction who wipes her yellow cheek against the windowpane.
And I am afraid
Not of them
But of the children
Whom I have swallowed
And vomited
But who have now grown some more.
***
Cash Myron Toklas is the pseudonym for an author, poet, and playwright who wishes to remain anonymous. He is new to literary publication, although three of his poems appeared recently in The Piltdown Review. His current project is a reboot of Hesiod’s Theogony from the perspective of Saturn/Kronos. In general, his work explores the lessons that ancient myth can offer for modern life.