Overkill: Minimalism Ad Absurdum

 

Nothing is impossible— 

Always desire 

 

To explain as much 

As possible in terms 

 

Of as little as possible, 

Even when 

 

You overdo it. 

 

 

 

The Goatherd's Taverna at Psili Ammos Beach, Patmos, 1994

His down-home menu advertised such intriguing

Come-ons as Fried Papers and Chicken Village 

And a tantalizing concoction called Mountain Coat Special, 

Which I assure you, we would’ve tried 

On the spot had our jaws not 

Recoiled at the sight

 

Of sautéed satyr droppings lodged 

In one of those profusely-infused-with-scents-

Of-wild-oregano-and-mint gamy chicken 

 

Gizzards indiscriminatingly spread-

Eagled a bit much too 

Tastelessly on our plate.

Household Poem To Stick In One's Ear

 

Hear, hear— 

Not being an apple, 

 

Poets know writing a poem 

A day never keeps crazy 

Doctors at bay but why 

Should that dismay us, 

 

Especially when our good doc just 

Happens to be one who dances 

Naked before his bedroom mirror, 

Sings softly and raids the fridge, 

 

Eating the plums his sleeping wife was 

More than likely saving for her 

Breakfast but being a perfect 

Gentleman with surfeit pangs 

 

Of regret, leaves a note asking her 

Forgiveness, his mouth bulging 

With cool sweet nothings for her 

And all the world’s nutty 

 

Fruitcakes to hear. 

 

 

 

How To Deal (More Or Less) With Remorse

 

Don’t give what you keep 

Inside a second thought— 

 

Just open it, 

Give it all 

 

You have and don’t 

Even for a second 

 

Look back. 

 

 

 

 

Illuminating Retrograde Selfie

 

Though you can’t 

See it, conch-like at times 

 

When you’re too much 

With yourself, your better self 

 

Spirals inwards— 

Becoming 

 

A glazed shell 

Of a luminous 

 

Former self.