Triton

This poem was a pastiche I wrote in memory of Derek Walcott.

Triton

“through me you enter into the city of woes
through me you enter into eternal pain,
through me you enter the population of loss.
…
abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
- Inferno, Dante Alighieri


The Triton, three-headed, tread beyond the auriferous coasts,
Remnants of gold tainting his claws.
The Passage beckoned him,
The sheer-white of God’s light illuminating a path against the darkened tides,
A trigon in form, leading Triton to man’s physical reverie.
Isabella, Hope, and Sally followed among the path,
Pure figures that held up the dream of the New World.

Rain washed down on the heads of the beast,
Then Triton opened its mouth, baring fangs,
And let God’s prose and verse wash down his throat,
Rattle through his ribcage, and situate in his stomach.

In the belly of the Beast,
A trial amongst the prisoners commenced,
Cries of Twi reverberated, loud yet
Unsound.
Nyame continues weeping as her grasp
Weakened amongst the clouds,
Connection dissipating.

Bilboes led to brown strapped to blue and white
Briny sweat clouding their stricken bodies,
A forced cleansing of themselves,
Washing away remnants of Ashanti and Nyame from their souls.

It ended here for them and begun for Them.
The men who became the Supreme Being.
A new trinity of Hades, God, and the New World,
A city of eternal pain. Hell