Where once there was
An outhouse
With swatches of news
Paper nailed to bare brick
Wall next to a hole,
Now indoors
A fine vitreous fixture
And a roll
Of soft ass-wipe unwound,
Touching cool
Marble floor.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Achieving Brilliance
Some have to work hard at it,
Others hardly at all, so
Before he steps back
And takes one last hard look
At what he’s left behind,
This ragamuffin of a boot-
Black buffing the shine of the gentleman
Has to spit on his shoes and snap
The rag like his life depends on it
One more time.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
John the Baptist aka The Saint Oregano Man
Gather your oregano while you may after his name day (June 24th) and as long as it has ripened fully and you collect it very early in the morning before the first rays of the sun have touched it. This” slight” detail is essential because only in this way does the oregano acquire magical powers.
This explains why I got up at 5 o’clock this morning and rode my trusty ancient Yamaha 125cc Enduro motorcycle to our olive grove about 9 km due west of Meligalas and spent the next two hours gathering this holy mountain of oregano, which will be cured in the shade, mind you, (or else it will turn black and spoil) before being sprinkled generously on a variety of salads and meat/fish/poultry dishes, as the Greeks have always used it as a food preservative, and it is probably in this role that the pessimistic phrase “Put some oregano on him” is employed metaphorically when someone’s plans start to go from bad to worse.
NB: It may sound far-fetched to some but included in oregano's magical powers is its ability to heal wounds; believe me—as The Saint Oregano Man is my witness—this claim is definitely not for the birds. Nor is this poem.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Descendants of Daedalus
With all due respect, sun
Please no deviations—
Just keep waxing pretty
As she goes, I know
It's a maze but here we are
Doing downright nicely by you
Just as you are.
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