nor Horace--my Ars Poetica was ars psychotica,
cannabis my myrrh

though I must have known Homer, for my thumb
took me across vast asphalt seas

where I was tempted by sweet sirens, and didn't resist, while others crouched crowded in desks and read tales of two cities

unaware I was ever there, hungry, road weary, far from their land of oblivion