POEM: The Last Siren

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The Last Siren

you can’t take your eyes off her when she reads
she says it’s the microphone
you say the microphone’s in the way

the word allure comes from the same root as lure, bait
her words dangling at the end of the hook
you can’t resist biting
and then she has you – all of you – not just the eyes

sometimes she pretends not to hear
but only because she’s already been there
written her message in blood on the wall
where it waits for the unsuspecting traveler

wandering in from the night
to a room full of aspirants who hang, writhing
on her every word

she is the last Siren, come from her island
on a boat of pages torn from your secret journal

Jason played his lyre to drown out her song
Odysseus strapped himself to the mast
but still begged for release, screaming
until the ship drifted out of danger

and now here she is and here you are
and she is still singing and no amount
of beeswax can stop your ears
and you can’t look away