LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
The sun usually rises soon after the execution
the musicians steal apples or they cry in their hats
and the frightened people, as they say, know the
first names of all the lampposts
like where they didn’t allow you to enter although
there was a door
therefore you trusted all your bones in your cloths
like a female cook who wrapped her apron over two
wars,
humiliation that, if I describe it to you, the words will
die in humiliation
always talking in low tone voice so I won’t scorn you
like the soldier who keeps silent until he becomes an
apricot tree
or someone who was never noticed and he delays in
his coffin
and the senseless café where father dragged his feet
like crime
oh, if I could grow roots in the evening sounds
of the kitchen
I’d had never died
like the air of this crime that spends the seasons or
like the good poet you become when you have
nothing else in the world.
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Manolis 