Wednesday, November 30, 2011

In Lieu of "Three Red Pigeons"




XXIV 

Here end the works of the sea, the works of love. 
Those who will some day live here where we end— 
should the blood happen to blacken in their memory and overflow— 
let them not forget us, the weak souls among the asphodels, 
let them turn towards Erebus the heads of the victims: 

We who had nothing will teach them peace. 

—George Seferis, from Mythistorema (My translation) 

(Music by Ilias Andriopoulos, sung by the late, great Nikos Xylouris)

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Mythistorema


Though no past shall ever be 
Perfect, we thought we knew 
Enough about it to keep us hopeful, 
Unraveling its myriad rules, ever mindful 
Of how we were told not 
To look upon ourselves 
As exceptions, lest the sovereign sun melt 

Our golden rule. 

Monday, November 28, 2011

That’s a Tough One: The Muse Strikes Again


Where do poems come from? 

I’m not sure, 
But now that I think of it, 
Your question reminds me 

Of the time when I first asked 
Mom where babies come from 
And she said they just popped out 

Of women’s kneecaps. 


Sunday, November 27, 2011

Myrtle Vinca Minor under Cross-examination

Sure, you keep repeating 
You’re not trans-gender, 

But what’s that coy chick doing hiding 
In your shrubbery 

Feeding on your seeds? 

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Surreal Sleepwalker


Out of deep sleep
And rising ever so
 
Slowly and completely
Mesmerized, I see what must be 
A green cheese moon adrift and waxing
 
The blue ocean floor at my feet. 
 
 
 
 

Friday, November 25, 2011

Logorrhea


You run off at the mouth
Whenever you say whatever
You say is what you have
To say and nothing’s going stop you.

Okay, logo-masochist, have it your way but
What’re you going to say when you’re sinking
In deep shit and nobody’s going to stop you?

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Ornithologists' Organic Breakfast

—for Ans and Peter 


gingerly nibbling, small feathered 
friend preening on 

thin 
seedy 
stalk 
of 
sweet 

smelling 
wild 
fennel— 

early birds, 
feast your eyes

for what we have 
here is a natural, 
a real honest-to-goodness 

con 
nois 
sir. 

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