Hera Put Her Foot Down

Hera put her foot down.

Zeus didn’t understand her frown:

“It was just a night on the town!”

 

It was never the last time,

Though he swore it on every dime

As if that could erase his crime.

There was never a rhyme

Or reason,

There was no warning sign

Of his treason.

Hera put her foot down,

And Zeus’s apology flowers

Might as well have been brown.

 

He said the first would be his last,

But the unfaithful habit was not put past.

First the woman in the club,

Then the man with the mask.

Another one from a philosophy class.

He apologized, once,

Then repeated the act.

He refused to learn.

Hera learned this fact.

 

She packed his bags,

Waited for him to come home.

He stood in the door,

His ignorance a vast dome.

She cracked it with a word.

She said to “Go.”

Her thoughts could’ve filled

A carefully locked tome.

 

She blocked his number

With no second glance.

She removed the “married” status

And booked a flight to France.

The ring on her finger

Set a stranger into a trance.

She sold it to them for ten bucks;

Zeus would get no fourteenth chance.

Her Facebook page was blown up by friends.

She posted a single line.

“I am on vacation to celebrate reaching my prime.”

She put on sunglasses.

She checked the time.

 

Hera put her foot down.

 

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