Leaving
Trees fell on the ground, wide open doors, and a black
dress under the stones. We took the roads, other
windows, and other places.
The dog turned his ear; it didn’t wag his tail. What we
learned, we called ours, nothing, nothing — only a
painted plate in the child’s room, if you took it with you,
perhaps things would have been better (I wonder whether
it would have died). Deep carefreeness for lack of
ownership, he said, and lack of hatred. And the pain feels
tiring at night, thus stooped over the aluminum pot,
the steam hides the hand that holds the ladle. You have
forgotten; they have forgotten you.
Hypnotized world quietness. Given up keys.
The hotel manager talks to Autumn in front of the stable.
The prison guard was tied to the railings. A lardy star onto
the chimney.
Broken glass on the soil. Be careful, don’t walk barefoot.
The dead men,
although silent for years, don’t forget their share.
Manolis Aligizakis 