LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
VIOLIN FOR THE ONE-ARM MAN
3
However something worse happened: I had to be in
the hallway at regular times; there was a vague accusation
without any witnesses,
without proofs, almost without a victim;
besides, haven’t I been under uninterrupted surveillance
for years otherwise what would I need all these
windows?
They were coming in the house each night and that explains
all the floor creaking
a mysterious murder by the many things that had fallen
off your hands,
doors you opened hastily or perhaps auntie Eudoxia, who
applied make up at her old age and if you made fun of her
she would go to the side and cry silently, since then I owe
her all the tears
or that fake coin you threw in the hat of the blind, perhaps
he exchanged it with his whole hand,
or my childhood friend with who each evening we divided
the world; though I always cheated him
as I waited to be called “it’s my turn” I begged them
although, even here, someone else would take my place;
“there is no skylight” someone said and I calmed him
down “there is one since you’re lost” I said to him;
every so often people opened the door and looked
at me until blood appeared;
finally they took me “name please”, “assholes, pigs”
I said to them “if I didn’t have a name I wouldn’t be
here”, “and how did you kill your father?”
“I, my father?” But when I started recalling I suddenly
understood how mysterious my past was “they fooled me”
I yelled “someone else lived my life”
then the next witness came in,
the wretched man, who accused me of debauchery “pity”
I said to him “I was the one who took off my cloths and
covered the gallows so you wouldn’t see it”
and as evening came they brought big candlesticks
from other eras
since those days I had no corpse to prepare for the night
until finally he appeared, the one who would be
responsible for my defence, as they said; I knew him
but didn’t remember accurately in which life I met him
“are you the distributor” I asked “no I’m the inheritor”
he says, such inexplicable words, perhaps to all who are
afraid of words
and only after the murder you learn who you are.
Manolis 