Week 6, Free Entry 1

During Mr. Vagnini's introduction, at the start of last Thursday's class, something he said about Italian ideas jumping over to English in interesting ways made me jot down a few lines on situations like that given between the languages I know and English.

Although poems are not my strength, I decided to give it a shot at one. This is my current draft:

Given a hug without scars,
west of Ithaca,
where killing shines
like amber mead.

A cotillion of snakes
shed from a myriad gorgons
is chasing its prey,
a breeze of mugged arms.

Standing atop the barren cliff
where a prince lost his sight,
the blue sawteeth race
and the flying cats cry.