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the kiss prince charming gave
princess wild
fold your heroes in pages
wrinkled and part ripped
packaged kilo of red mullets
secretly they rise your heroes
moistened by fish gills and scales
they ascend declaring to the kitchen
and to olive oil smoking in the pan
their innocence of youth
erased dreams and ambitions
Colors
City smog diaphanous blue
gasps like a gazelle’s neck
tightly held in the lion’s jaws
and her mound’s thin hair
as soft as breeze
amid my fingers
touching, feeling smoothness
lustrous purple dusk
divided in two equal parts
immense in our internal mirror
on her hand a bit of yellow
and a rose, fiery red
for her bloodied path
to the faraway land where
the stern knee of the Kore
transforms
the beauty of earth into
an amphora of limpidity
excerpt
said Chopyk with only a hint of irony. He stroked his beard and stared at her with curiosity in his eyes. “I understand from Maria that you have a class scheduled for this morning.”
“Yes,” replied Jennifer tersely. Don’t explain, don’t apologize. Last night is none of his business. “I want to hear the students’ experiences in Leningrad. I have my own to share, too.”
“But I also know that you have been cancelling classes while in Leningrad….”
“As we discussed that first night,” she broke in quickly, starting across the lobby.
“Yes, agreed…but….” Chopyk followed, taking small, deliberate steps beside her. She matched his fussy gait. What is this nonsense all about? Surely he isn’t going to punish me?
“Since I have been carrying on with classes while in Leningrad for any who care to study,” he sniffed, “I think it only right that you should lead both groups, juniors and seniors, while on the Volga cruise.”
So that was it. Once again, he had hit her at her most guilty moment. He wanted to lounge on the sundeck reading his academic papers and not have to deal with a pack of rowdy students.
“Certainly. I’d be happy to do that,” she answered. “I know how one’s research suffers when class prep is a priority,” she added archly. He appeared not to notice her tone of voice. They entered the dining room in silence.
★
That morning she ended her class by presenting a poem that Volodya had written out for her: an excerpt from “Spring in Leningrad” by the Russian war poet, Margarita Aliger. Jennifer told the students the story of the Leningrad mother who had suffered during the siege and how her son, Volodya, had been moved by this poem. Despite her own sense of loss, Hank’s bad mood and Ted’s hangover, the students rallied and they recited it in Russian, then took a stab at translating it.
“O city without light, without water!
One hundred and twenty five grams of blockade rationed bread…
Savage rumbling of trouble
from the pitiless, dead sky.
VI
Almighty blonde Acheron
like an archaic tautology,
the gateway to the Underworld,
with all its strength and length,
commands all other rivers
to stop painting their life
on earth and below.
Dry riverbeds bemoan
as water hardly trickles
like a slow drip ceasing slowly
as the dreams halt midway.
Silence substitutes the
memory of sunlit dusks
arduous solitude reigns over
the orphan dream of the seed
which never sprouts.
Stillness, anger, inertia
and the commencing Death.
Only Death smiles and
enters with grandiose fanfare.
Hercules
Irascible beast
born executioner to face Poseidon’s spread evil
that sprouts into the sea
for memoirs will be written only
on the edge of the sword
that cracks the cheekbones of the night like walnuts.
Castles of the night will fall like trees
anatomy lesson on the body of the deed
poisoned by his own hand
his final chiton
he put on
like the lion of the desert puts on its bandolier
excerpt
She sat down on the sofa and stretched her legs out in front of her. Actually, it did feel good to rest. She had been a little tired and weary in the last few weeks, but she knew it was only because her body was going through hormonal changes. Dr. Rosthern had pronounced her perfectly healthy.
Stifling a yawn, she glanced at her husband. “What did your mom say when you told her we won’t be with them for Christmas dinner? Was she very disappointed?”
Morley looked up. “She said she understands, and she figured we’d be going to your folks this year. And Mom and Dad won’t be alone all day. Aunt Peg and her two daughters will be there for dinner.”
“And we’ll go over in the evening after you’ve done the milking?”
“Of course we will, hon. I told Mom that, and she’s okay with it.”
Tyne yawned again, then getting to her feet, she went to stand behind Morley and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “And you, my dear husband, will be taking me Christmas shopping in Medicine Hat tomorrow, won’t you?”
He tipped his head back to look at her. “Whatever happened to shopping from Eaton’s catalogue like my mom used to do?”
Tyne wrinkled her nose. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re past the middle of the twentieth century. Besides that, I love the excitement of Christmas shopping in the city, the store windows all decorated, and Santa ringing his bell beside the Salvation Army kettle on the sidewalk.”
His eyes were full of laughter. “I hope you’re not disappointed then. We’re going to Medicine Hat, not Calgary.”
“Same thing – you’ll see.” Tyne bent her head to kiss him lightly on the forehead. “Now I must get my beauty sleep if I’m going to be at my shopping best tomorrow. Don’t be long, dear. Let’s finish the tree tomorrow night.”
Morley smiled as his eyes followed her progress up the stairs.
The town of Medicine Hat almost lived up to Tyne’s expectations. The windows were decorated, carols were playing in the stores as well as on the sidewalks, and a fresh fall of snow during the night had left
excerpt
touched her hand a bit more to signal to her he was aware and
delightened by her smile.
The rest of their meal went quietly and with an extra carefree
manner while Father Thomas kept a good eye on everything
that was taking place in the eating area. The food was consumed.
The kids would be led to their dorms. Mary said to Anton,
“Wait for me; I’ll be back in ten minutes or so.”
Anton nodded his head and after supper he walked to the
kitchen where he found Migizi working on the cauldrons as usually.
He was a smiling, happy boy, when Anton faced him and
asked.
“I see you on duty again. When will you start behaving so
you wouldn’t have to do this?”
“Never,” the youth said and kept wiping the big cauldron
with both his hands. Then George called him to the side and put a
plateful of food in front of the boy. A chicken thigh, cooked in the
oven with three roasted potatoes which the youth truly devoured.
Soon after Mary returned and joined Anton. They got the
plate with a piece of apple pie George had ready for them. They
stood by the counter and with two forks they shared the apple
pie: one bite each and a good laughter after each bite. Anton’s
body was clearly touching the side of Mary’s body to which she
responded by pushing him a bit just to show to him that she
enjoyed touching him as much as he liked touching her.
George the cook didn’t miss a thing of all the interaction
between the young secretary and the young caretaker; he too
smiled with joy seeing sweetness blooming even here between
these walls that have kept so many ugly secrets, yes beauty could
be found anywhere, even in the dark bowels of the Kamloops
Indian Residential School. Time passed quickly as it always does
when two people enjoy themselves.
Pigsty
Things have changed; these days they didn’t kill, they only
pointed at you with the finger it was enough. Then, they make
a circle that always becomes smaller; they slowly get closer
you retreat against the wall, until in desperation you, alone,
open a hole to hide into it.
When the circle was cleared, another respectable, lovable
man stood in its place.
Manolis Aligizakis 