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The thin-lipped armorer, Hephaestos, hobbled away, Thetis of the shining breasts Cried out in dismay At what the god had wrought To please her son, th

• 082349872349872 4y ago
  Ajax stands in the Trojan torchlight, feeling the Trojan wind. He knows the Hisarlik wind is a crazy wind; It blows the dust of ages past the tired walls To scour the shining helmets of dead heroes And when men listen to it for too long They hear gods talking. Where are the gods now? Ajax doesn’t hear them. The day he did has gone. Zeus the old lecher Is boss of bosses now, practically half legit; White-robed, nobody touches him now. Apollo owns a theatre where the performers use the rear door. Athena drives by with the dark windows rolled up tight. Aphrodite? She dresses nicer than she did. The little heroes tossed around below by the crazy wind Still do the Destiny Makers’ fighting, Take the long fall for them like always, Suckered by the crazy wind’s promise of the Olympian move, The shot at making their own destiny. https://www.tor.com/2011/04/24/two-from-weird-tales/ https://www.tor.com/2011/04/24/two-from-weird-tales/