Epimenides

After my long sleep I awoke to find
that things had changed.  Blue refinery flames
flickered above the strip malls.
Oracles spoke through strange boxes
at the drive-up window at the Taco Bell.
I meant to sacrifice a goat as thanks
for my long journey through the eons,
but the goat began munching on the oddly
orange cheetos I’d purchased at the Wal-Mart
Superstore, and in the end I tied the animal to a rope
in the back yard, let him munch on the grass,
and lay down on a hammock to gather myself.
The tattoos hidden on my skin spoke
of great auguries and necromancies
and oneiromancies, but all I had to do
was flip on the satellite television and entire worlds
of occultations flickered forth.  Once I thought
I saw Aphrodite standing with a hand on her hip
in the window of a Victoria’s Secret,
but the next moment I was munching on a caramel
pecanbon at the Cinnabon kiosk, watching the mall
elevators rise with glass windows as though toward
a wonder that not even Gaea could envision.