FACE

FACE

all you need
to face
the Medusa
is a mirror,

a sliver of mirror,
a shard, a fragment,
all are up to
it
all will do

why bother to
carry an ornate mirror, lug
a Louis XIV
piece of
     gilded craftsmanship
into the Gorgon’s cave
that place
of ultimate, perversely
exquisite danger

or any of those bent, warped,
ostensibly satirical
crazy
    circus fairground
magically distorting
mirrors

as if this insult to injury is the way
to strip Medusa bare of
her instantaneous
lethal charm
         all that is left
of her femininity,
humanity

to confront
the monster
you
   made a monster
thing mirrored out
of shadow refraction

     face it, stand it down,
not to balk at
what
   it can do to you
this aberration

which
       let us never forget
was not
always so
    was defiled and then
so hideously transformed
by nothing less
than masculinity itself
by those
same propensities to
heroism surging
unrestrained
within you
    sanctioned and
given
   covering fire
by divine wisdom itself

yes,

   stare into that glass
you wish to use
as deadly
   targeting weapon
before you
point it

at the evil that you secretly
fear
   itself a reflection

proof that behind all
great celebrated
truth
    redemptive victory
a horrible lie

as false
     as any false window, doorway
trick of perspective
fiction of
       dimensions in
true trompe l’oeil