Mrs. Daedalus


At twenty, I loved how you always had to have the wind in your hair.

You and Diogenes, honest, blunt, tactless assholes

drinking wine on the balcony,

grabbing truth out of thin air with gesticulating hands. 

I adored you and that's nothing new.

At forty-five you haven't changed,

You're still the Greek MacGyver,

but it only makes me want to vomit.

Our son is dead

I don't forgive you

and that's the stone fucking truth.


for Sunday Muse #153.


  1. Your poetry always does get right to the gut of it and covers a span of years in few words. That is a talent most don't have. This is absolutely amazing and hits you at the end with an eloquent punch in the heart. Love, and hate and the way relationships can turn is full of truths so many hide forever. Love love love this poem my friend!!!!

  2. Filled with emotion and with literary allusions. Love the voice of this.

  3. You take us into the heart of myth, the unspoken but natural conclusions of a story meant to both warn and inspire, that ends in hubris, foolishness and death. Often it's your unique language that propels the poem, but here it is the stark confines of narrative, illuminated by emotional truth. Loss comes in so many flavors. Fine writing, Shay.

  4. Listened to the music ... 'the time bomb's ticking' an apt bit of lyric to describe the tone of your poetry. Cuts deep this one.

  5. In-your-face, cut to the chase, raw emotion captured in word. Well done! (Loved the music!)

  6. What once attracted us can easily become repulsive. Those grand ideas with no substance, even MacGyver couldn't make something out of nothing. Some birds never change their tune.

  7. Shay--This is one fierce poem. I adore the rhythm and the sentiment in the last three lines.

  8. another "in your face write" you do this so well
    HappySunday. Be Safe

    much love

  9. Wow, this one hits you with a punch.

  10. Excellent piece, from start to finish. (I especially like, “You're still the Greek MacGyver,”)

    My son was trying to fly with palm branches this morning; his sister said, “Who do you think you are, Icarus?”

    I hope this is just clever fiction and that your son is okay.

  11. Hard-hitting and powerful writing, with a real punch in the closing lines. I knew your son is fine, and that this is fiction. Reads like truth, given the poet's incredible skill.

  12. There are some things that can never be reconciled. The dichotomy of the heart with that reality can drive one to madness. I'm so sorry if you lost your son, Shay.

  13. Oh this is a gut punch, a powerful strike of pain that lives a life from the agony of loss.


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