
POEM BY ELENI MARINAKIS
JUGGLER
Hard to fly with poetry
and I didn’t spread
my wings.
I kept fallen leaves
and small rabbits in my living room.
The lonely band played
during the anniversaries
I opened my eyes timidly
fields of olive groves shaded my hat
a swing committed me to the void.
Thus, I grew up with crumbs
I earned my share of food
working the trapeze.
Since then I’m scared of the straight lines
the end of the horizon
the quick fading of the white.
Now I crouch under bridges
of dried up rivers
just to have
my own nothing

