Long Listed for the 2023 Griffin Poetry Awards

2023 Longlist Announcement

Poem

I remember when I got out of prison my shaved head,

was round and empty like the globe. No, “I’m not hungry”

I’d say to friends who would invite me for dinner, while

at the same time, I’d grab a handful of goodies from

the confession tray left by the sewing machine, which,

of course, later, I ate in the bathroom. Thus I lived my life;

with the dead, humiliation, poems, dates of old disasters

and visions of future revolutions. Indeed often, in order

to take revenge on those who stupidly believed in me, I

committed small sins and perversions. I never returned

borrowed money, I cried in front of others, I endlessly

talked in various political gatherings, since, I forgot to

mention that I was dedicated to another great mission,

so great, God, that had room even for the idiots.

However, I can’t but mention that people helped me a lot:

women graced me with their infidelity, crazy people with

their advice, and comrades with impossible dreams although

most of these were worn out by the passing of time. But

my greediness covered everything like a gigantic wave

and I had to re-discover them as if they were cut off from

the bosom of the Lord. And my most triumphant days 

steadied their exquisite, strong elbow onto the water

of futility. Finally, to make the long story short, after

I experienced the whole ordeal of hope, I reached

the most abominable conclusion: to believe in man.

Therefore, why is unsuitable for a revolutionary

to commit suicide?

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