Seth Leeper
Seth Leeper is a queer poet. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cream City Review, The Journal, Pithead Chapel, Poet Lore, Prairie Schooner, River Styx, Salamander, and Sycamore Review. He holds an M.S. in Special Education from Pace University and B.A. in Creative Writing and Fashion Journalism from San Francisco State University. He is a candidate in the Low Residency MFA in Creative Writing Program at Randolph College. His work has been nominated for inclusion in Best New Poets, Best of the Net, and Pushcart anthologies. He teaches drop-in and virtual workshops for Brooklyn Poets. He can be found on socials @sethwleeper.
![[Odysseus has landed on the moon and Penelope exhales a sigh of relief. There’s small comfort in knowing where your loved ones are; this time he’ll come back sooner. Telemachus is sitting on terracotta tiles in the center of the villa pretending to orbit a pebble around a pea. Reports state Odysseus’s footprints will be immortalized in a cement cast. There’s small comfort in knowing the face you see in the night will one day lift the sheets to fill the vacant space beside you. Penelope
sits before her loom and weaves herself a new myth in which she’s free from the whims of men. Reports state children of absent fathers grow into the exact shapes their fathers leave behind. Telemachus has more patience as a child than he will as a man waiting for his inheritance to return from the sky. Penelope sits before her loom and wonders how long it will be before her son’s irrepressible might will overshadow his love for her. What we inherit are the habits and curses handed down between generations, Telemachus knows this. Telemachus has more patience for the moon than he does the turbulent currents of the sea. Odysseus was always destined to be a stranger to his spouse and his progeny, but there are no witches in space. What we inherit are the voided dreams of our mothers misspent on our absent fathers. Penelope flips through channels on the television never expecting any particular vision to stick. Odysseus was always destined to be wrecked beyond reach, but there are no shrill calls to avoid in space. Telemachus stares out his bedroom window through a telescope pointed across the yard.]](https://waxwingmag.org/images/misc/Leeper_Pantoublock.png)
