Shaking Off the Iliad

...beating on the bronze gates
trying to deny their power, seeking
somewhere an inviolate garden,
a healing rain, soft to wash
away the long lines of hard-eyed
observation, those careless gods
rolling dice in their ambrosial
coliseums.

Yet undeniable, a blind poet seeing
our generations falling like leaves,
killing tsunamis, the rage of armies,
nations, cults locking us behind
the merciless gates.