CIRCE'S PIES
Rolling, rolling over the waves of swine
Black flour and sour milk combine
In Circe’s meat filled doughy pies
Filled with death and Ulysses men’s horrific cries.
The Queen was left to go untied
Moving out to sea she died
Past ghosts recovering lost saints
Rescued as floating foamy crumbling flakes
In blood-soaked waters
Ulysses saved, his mind all a shake
His men were drawn and baked in quarters
But he is still alive and much awake
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