The Fall of Zeus

Bottles lay around him,

eyes are glazed,

breath tinted with alcohol. 

He remembers the girls, 

those he met in his last visit. 

He remembers the touches, 

and the moans. 

He hears a murmur, 

the yells from his wife. 

As she holds a letter.

Child support. 

For another child.

How many does he have now?

He can't remember,

he only knows the money that drains,

for the care of those whose lives he ruined. 

This was his fall, 

and it wasn't possible for him to climb back up.