Dreams of Cuchulainn

Ross E. Lockhart


My wife wears another woman’s name, scratched

into her shoulder,
a relic of
another time, another place.

I, too

wear scars and marks as souvenirs
of vanished misadventures.
A half-completed Tenku on my forearm.
An ankh upon one shoulder.
A sigil on the other.

A glyph remembered from a dream, etched

into my back.
Jennifer traces it
with a finger.
“I like how it’s
raised - substantial - like it’s   a  l  i  v  e  .”
She is as much
a part of me.

A thousand years ago, or was it only yesterday?

I spilled my name in blood and spit and sweat.
I wore each conquest,
each totem carved
into my skin and stood
before the gods,

unscared.


Today I cover up in public,

embarrassed by imperfect form.
My symbols mine alone.

Seems strange to feel so distant from that time

when Fenris’ howls were mingled with the wind
and long before the Midgard Serpent
had been rechristened Leviathan.

A thousand years ago, or was it only yesterday,

when first I dreamed... of Cuchulainn.
Last night I dreamed of him again.

He filled the horn, we drank,

I listened to his boasts,
and steadily I realized
the GREAT BIG modern God
was far too
small

for there to be enough to go around.


We stood in ranks upon the hillside,

to face armored invaders
s  t  r  i  p  p  e  d   but for our torcs
our spears, our shields in hand
our histories, our magic stamped into
our skins - in woad - we stood   u  n  s  t  o  p  p  a  b  l  e  .

We screamed at their advancing legions | until our voices hurt | then leapt upon them drove them back | until they built a wall and claimed | that we could not be reckoned with | besides, they had a war at home | and they could not be bothered with | the likes of foolish primitives | for that we were and that we are | and that we’ll always be...


But on that very night, you see,

we toasted all the gods in revelry,
first one and then another,
until we fell...
...and   d  r  e  a  m  e  d  .