The song pulled at his sinews and he strained
to burst the ropes that held him to the mast.
"Untie me or this day will be your last!"
he shouted at his men, but they remained
fixed on the task of steering clear of shocks,
deaf to his orders, beeswax in each ear,
purposely put so only he would hear
the voices of the women on the rocks.
"Noble Ulysses, we have eyes for you.
We long to feel your kisses on our lips.
Here in our arms, you'll have no need of ships.
Fully possess us, nothing else will do."
Speechless for once, he gasped at their appeal,
no power left except the power to feel.