POEM BY ANTONIS FOSTIERIS
BOY AT THE MUSEUM
A boy has slept in the museum
for the last three thousand years
his bones have shuddered in the cold
they got full of holes for the stubbornness of the irrevocable.
A boy gets up from his bed at night
pulls the curtains aside to see the moon
the wild light startles him and he sleepwalks to the roof
just a little more and he’ll climb up to the clouds
just a little more and he’ll clean out God’s beard
I’m lying, I’m lying a boy sleeps in the museum
eons trickle cold water on him
the eons buzz in his ears like bees
eons of ants around his mattress
just a little longer and he’ll rip the curtain of his sleep
he’ll get up and crying we’ll hug each other
Manolis 