The Minotaur in the Labyrinth
by Melanie Knippen

My hybrid-monster snout sniffs
bland hedge-leaves all day.
I run my paws across coniferous walls;
if a thorn gets stuck,
I pull it out with my fangs—
turn roses red.

I kneel in weeds
and long for epic tales.
My tail wags for heroic fantasies:
The Odyssey, Metamorphoses

I pray, “Dear Dionysus,
send Thalia, muse of comedy,
I could use a laugh.”

She appeared once
glimmered in illusion.
I was pacing,
doing my daily circles:
dead-ends.
I couldn’t even chuckle.

I merely aim to find my way out
and meander about everyday
at a melancholic pace—
trapped.

I am incessant motion
a meditation in madness
deep inside this strange form.
It’s a back-
and-forth
black-
and-white
mind-trap.

I answer solely to a bull-horned god,
but I’ve exhausted all my answers.
Enraged, I lash out at branches.
Vindictive beast, I torture swallows.
Thirsty…