Icarus [part 2, original epic poem]

Icarus woke with a map and a honey-do list
the Moon had sribbled it out while Icarus slept
he could barely read the type, "das ist?"
and in Bright Red Bold "merci--a french play"
and there in his Greek he was, "Poseidon
Lord ProTecter of the Storm and Ocean."

No wonder the moon had struck it out
it was all Posiedon grumbling, "uboats,
german's, flotsam" while wax wings cry out
yawning, floating breath like Ode's
that feather down as notes on stone
that break light on the story like ohms

Icarus looked down at the notes, "dear
what a sad story to mend such a song
you may layer your breath to steer
imagination's depth is a strong
current that defines your land in song
from that height parlance dissolves."

It was humid and except for a lone
cricket Icarus didn't recognize a thing
the trees were thick but not like home
they drooped and swam at the rim
of air mosquito-thick misting rain
and an angry river flowing south--a drain

The men here were dressed in white
and spoke with backwards tongues
they said words like "ain't" and "aight,"
and told there stories in cadence with song
druid chants went long in their beats
and rythmic blues resigned in defeat

and screams that curled the back
and the moan of women and children
and their men--as they all beat
onto the stage their bodies forming
a ghastly catapiller linked in chains
Icarus walked off-set, but shock remained.

He looked for the moon, but he
did not answer his nightly set
and the sky was dark as a prophecy
and Icarus frowned in regret
"Why did I leave my Father's side
to come to this? I object--"

part 1: https://steemit.com/poetry/@generalizethis/icarus-1-original-epic-poem