I just read (and totally recommend!) Girl Meets Boy by Ali Smith, a retelling of the myth of Iphis. I dug out my copy of Edith Hamilton's Mythology to look up Iphis; she doesn't retell Ovid's myth, alas, but I've always had a soft spot for Hamilton's book, so I've been reading bits of it. And the bits from Hamilton gave me an idea to work on a poem, which is good because I haven't had many ideas in that department at all.
Our Neighborhood
At pick-up games, Apollo
shows off the same
arms, legs, chest of the athlete
he used to be, maintained
with twenty minutes a day
on his Bowflex machine
as Hermes lugs boxes
up and down the street
for UPS, and artists who watch
from windows don’t know
they’re sketching the gods
in our image, everyone’s
weekend one tableau
of overtime and basketball.
Our Neighborhood
At pick-up games, Apollo
shows off the same
arms, legs, chest of the athlete
he used to be, maintained
with twenty minutes a day
on his Bowflex machine
as Hermes lugs boxes
up and down the street
for UPS, and artists who watch
from windows don’t know
they’re sketching the gods
in our image, everyone’s
weekend one tableau
of overtime and basketball.
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