LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
Chatty Old Woman
Some encounters are strange, at night, with ghostly
faces, men who hide something behind their prophet’s
beards or they ask you for a match though they don’t
accept a cigarette and thin women who stop you for
a question or they beg you not to carry on insisting
that they have some information or alcoholic children
while they move their hands with difficulty like in
dreams
therefore struggling from nicotine I rang the bell, a
pair of stupid slippers dragged along the hallway and
an old man opened with a cap in the shape of a sponge,
“what you want?” He asks me, “I?” I said to him. “You
called me, usually this time they all call me”, “who is it?”
An old woman was heard from inside “a crazy man”
the old man said; I pushed him, I started to search,
prehistoric scene full of dust, “don’t search” he said to me,
“she’s dead”, “then why she talks to me?” I asked, “she was
always chatty like that”, “don’t listen to him” the old woman
yelled “He’s the dead one since he still hides his money”
“God they’ll drive me crazy”, I thought and raising the axe
I started pounding the wretched sofa which hid the quiet
part of the wall from me.
Manolis 