Poem “Tantalus”
Here’s a poem that occurred to me the other night. I’ve been paring it down since then.
It’s more an image than a complete thought, but I quite like the premise: indifference to suffering endlessly prolonged. That’s the most captivating thing about notions of eternal punishment as expressed through legends like Tantalus’. What do they do with boredom and acclimatization? Is getting used to eternal punishment a form of torture in itself?
In any case, I hope you like it!
“Tantalus”
A listless hand
bobs up toward the fruit
and down toward the pool.
A flick of the fingers,
careless,
resigns him
to waiting another forever
until he tries again.
