Next daft project, to write a novel about imaginary people set in a period I know nothing about.
Out of the sea he stepped the great bull,
white as the foam, as the breast of a gull
the bright sky was brazen and rang with the song
of women keening for some tragic wrong,
a mother with bent head, hiding her tears
from the child in her arms, calming his fears,
a girl on a ship, a sword with blood pearled,
the white bull that bellows the end of the world.