Icarus's Lust

When Icarus fell from the sky
His body was laid down in a bed
Filled with lovers.
Who's aching bodies burdened the air
With dull closeness

His charred wings stained the sheets
With a brutality, shameless and revelling.
They were dirty blackened stubs
That in his despair
He beat, up and down, up and down
Making a thump thump thump against the bed head.

His course had taken him up and up and up
To a point surpassing reason and sensibility
Past the incessant shouting of his conscience
Past the thump thump thump of the rush in his veins
Past the world and all its pettiness
And all its demeaning necessities
And all its empty defeats
And all its little quibbling sorrows

But then too high
And a spinning trajectory
Through a screaming emptiness
Of cold and regret and nothingness
Back to a bed
Filled with lovers
Who's moans match exactly with his own
And with the thump thump thump of incessancy.