THINGS I UNDERLINED IN AESCHYLUS' THE SUPPLIANTS MONDAY NIGHT

A congregation glittering, bizarre in alien robes and diadems.

I claim in proudly through a childblessed cow.

All heregathered are your lords. Praise them with trembling. Settle in their cleanness.

A pitying of doves who know hawkfear.

On this voyage of women who set sail where Nile twists through saltpolished sand.

We fly before we were pinioned over a trembling sea.

They say He took bull's form and covered her.

Sea's blue night will heal over slashing, black oars.

My voice is the wail of all funerals.