by Katie Bee

If the minotaur knew how to knit,
Theseus would still be in the Labyrinth 
and Ariadne, Mistress of the Labyrinth, 
would still be anointed in honeysuckle,
not cast adrift by the hero she saved. 
Not wed to the god of cups and hedonism. 

It’s not difficult to see who the monsters are in myth– 
not Leda, or Persephone, or Arachne, who worked 
so well with string she hung herself like the moon. 

Though victors have written in delight of Perseus– 
whose mother was entombed alive to keep an oracle’s 
prophecy from coming to fruition–

   And yet still Zeus desired. 
And still her womb was filled. 
And still Perseus existed to slay monsters. 

The gods helped him kill Medusa, whose only crime 
was not wanting the wet fruit of unasked eyes upon her. 
Ripe peaches, split open, like her neck.

Katie Bee was born in the arid heat of New Mexico and grew up in the humid heat of Texas. She resides as an educator in the Northwest and creates poetry/art as an act of survival. She focuses on creations that attempt to re-center those marginalized by mainstream representation.

Image Credit: Art by PIRO