POEM BY KATERINA GOGOU
III
Our forests were made of glass
along the trees — motels
strange rooms with harmonious sounds
only the musicians kept vigil
with the flattened kites and spider webs
golden and purple that entwined
the web of love around their necks
just before morning twilight
they left with helicopters
a dust cloud of blue stars
showed them the way.
LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
Walks
And I often went looking for my fate yet I only
found the same old beer parlors or the same birds
that flew from tree to tree so they wouldn’t remember;
old men gathered the used matches to perhaps complete
forgetfulness and the poor people in the public baths
were like a multifold folk misfortune, therefore
I preferred to say goodnight to my aunt although
she was dead (perhaps because of it) or I built a labyrinth
made of gestures begging for help or I would limp like
a gramophone album that still turned in my childhood
years, since in fact many complained for strange noises
although I didn’t care or more so I jumped up from
my disturbed sleep like a new unexpected day or like
poetry which was an enigma of common words.
Manolis 