"To Troy, I went not: that . . . a phantom was"
Helen to Menelaus, Euripides
more than letting
of steam in some nasty dream where lost inhibition
means he was drunk again.
He didn't mention the music. She heard it
when he phoned. It sounded like an awful clue
there was no champagne
room, that the tips didn't have to be discreet,
that the strippers
were the same he explained as lighting
He may as well smoke it while he watches tits,
arse and legs slipping
around the poles
that could replace the vacant room
where he is Menelaus
romping with naked nymphs. He
doesn't mention he's married
to the most beautiful women in the world.
She may as well be a phantom.
She may as well be a memory only
when he sees her bare breasts.
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