Listen to the poem
Swords drawn at the Dionysian woman
Malice dawns upon her sly smirk, and
her dilated drunken pupils scream
“Dance! You hoplite fools.”
May limbs go limp.
Heads wobble
Dancing,
they shall.
Blades swung aimlessly.
slashing.
gushing.
she sings.
“Oh, glorious wine, flow from the wounds of men.”
Bleeding
arms,
legs,
necks.
“Dance to
the land of Hades.”
Intoxication overcomes
fragile minds of foot soldiers.
Feeble men fall to their knees to
the mighty chuckling maenad.
From ecstasy they die.