The Indulgence of Icarus

Ad captandum vulgas. To please the mob.

An uncommon hatchery for a poem,

much less a lyric meditation

by turns soaring and repining –

a tour through the fascist mind,

through the pride and insecurity that grind

at its foundations.

Is the shadow gliding up against the sun

that of Icarus, denuded of his feathers,

or that of Danton, despoiled of his head?

Is it the archetypal 20th century despot,

a demagogue dictating to the masses,

“beguiling the chambermaid, the tailor”. . . ?

Or a radical 21st century bully, a con man

strapping the casement of feathers

to his shoulders, throwing his glove

at the foot of the heavens

“until we fire our torches

foamed of dreams and

fan out pitchforked

into the innocent street”. . . ?

Bruce Sager was the recipient of the 2014 William Matthews Poetry Prize

BILLY COLLINS, JUDGE