A kind of a "dangerous supplement", marked, scarred on a body, post-orgasmically, always, already in anticipation of (a) crisis OR for a desert avec 'agape'. Mindb(l)ogg(l)ing Noise. "Avalanche, would you share my last pursuit?" (Baudelaire)

Friday, December 30, 2005

How about begining?

as well as diving into burning flames not wondering how will your intact soul elude your body;dancing in the rhuthm of your heart untill it peels of blood as you
fly utterly weightless along with the wind;

Undoubtedly He's now confused

Whispering words that people never thought of;inside circlings and echoes,flashes staining the brain chain- with what?

What, what Mr All's?

Come to an end
Before I come to'o

Friday, December 16, 2005

apou 'shis choran diavene -

three poems for a chora-iti

ksero, pws eine tipote ol'auta ke pws i glwssa
pou milw den exei alfavito

I can't go into the meaning of the dream
except to say a sense of total Loss
afflicted me therof:
an absolute disappearance of continuity & love
and children away at school,
the weight of the cross,
and everything is what it seems.

There: a feeling,
blown across by the ice wind
attaching its dove- its snow-
coloured cloth as a flag.

a pou na xatheis, chora

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Πώς μετά από δρασκελισμούς (κανείς) πετάει:

κι από τόσους λαβυρίνθους· και μετά

«Απαυδισμένη με το απαύδισμά μου, λευκή σελήνη τελευταία, μοναδικός καημός, και ούτε.Νά’χω πεθάνει, πριν απ’αυτή, πάνω σ’αυτή, μαζί μ’αυτή, και να γυρίζουμε, νεκρός πάνω σε νεκρή, γύρω από τη δύστυχη ανθρωπότητα, και να μην έχω ποτέ πια να πεθάνω εκ ζωντάνων. Και ούτε, ούτε καν. Η σελήνη μου ήταν εδώ κάτω, εδώ κάτω-κάτω, η όση λίγη μπόρεσα να λαχταρήσω. Και μια μέρα, τώρα κοντά, μια νύχτα, με γη ολόγιομη, πολύ κοντά, κάτω απ’τη γη, ένας ετοιμοθάνατος θα πει, όπως εγώ, κάτω απ’το φως της γης, Και ούτε, ούτε καν, και θα πεθάνει, χωρίς να’χει καταφέρει να βρει έναν καημό.» (Samuel Beckett, Malone Meurt)

και μετά και μετά;

Ολοκληρος λαβυρινδ

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Poetry today shows a strong inclination towards silence

You were my death:
you I could hold
when all fell away from me.


Your face quietly shrinks away
if suddenly
there is lamplike brightness inside me,
at the point where most painfully one says, No.

THE ALREADY-WRITTEN hollows itself,
sea-green, burns in the coves,

The weightless,
so weightless
of souls.

a fond adieu, JD.

Friday, July 08, 2005

dead man's laughter

zing boom. what's the use. wow bam said the cyber pixie.
whatever you do, life is hell said wendy cope.
love is like falling, and falling is like this said the not-pretty girl.

and then they parted and went to their respective homes to clean their respective dirty dishes.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

falling and flying are near-identical sensations: vzoum pong. pink. ink: je ksana pou arkeis, w kalokeri(a) na rtheis. I am very bothered when I think (of the bad things I have done in my life.)

Monday, June 27, 2005


Oι στίχοι αυτοί μπορεί και νά 'ναι οι τελευταίοι
Oι τελευταίοι στους τελευταίους που θα γραφτούν
Γιατί οι μελλούμενοι ποιητές δε ζούνε πια
Aυτοί που θα μιλούσανε πεθάναν όλοι νέοι
Tα θλιβερά τραγούδια τους γενήκανε πουλιά
Σε κάποιον άλλον ουρανό που λάμπει ξένος ήλιος
Γενήκαν άγριοι ποταμοί και τρέχουνε στη θάλασσα
Kαι τα νερά τους δεν μπορείς να ξεχωρίσεις
Στα θλιβερά τραγούδια τους φύτρωσε ένας λωτός
Nα γεννηθούμε στο χυμό του εμείς πιο νέοι.

(Manwlis Anagnwstakis)

Saturday, June 11, 2005

grafei plunderphone

Igma: And presence?

Oswald: Presence in two senses. One: of the present, a pop now. The sources were all recorded in the past ten years, the dawn of compact discs, music videos, & beyond. They are recordings of popular contemporary quasi-performances of modern songs.

Two: I'm using the word presence also in a sense of physical immediacy, which comes from the technique of electroquoting being used, which entails cloning, making exact replicas of the sources, & maintaining the precise quality of the digital masters throughout the process of recomposition.

Friday, June 03, 2005

perizhtith perigrafh

Ti to kanes to maxairi?

Empty Kitchen. Sound of door unlocking.
Enter young male from stage right.
Crosses kitchen and opens drawer. Looks in. Shuts it.
Opens second drawer.
Takes out big carving knife.
Shuts drawer. Walks back off stage right.
Sound of door locking followed by sound of shower running.

Sit down, stand up, Now here is the news:

To bzzz telika akoustiken i wra 07:50 anti epses, tzai meta pou eksi mhnes katalabeis oti to enstikto sou htan swsto. Me tosa mhnhmata pleon... ate ais-sixtir.
Malakismenh eisai tzai fainese, ftou! idika mes'se tzinous tous kabafiakous toixous.
And besides, I thought your name was Elisa Day, stop speaking that male dialect, how small do you feel?
Poli se poli, misw tin poli, katse re mitsi, you aint seen nothing yet, trabas pisw, niwthw to, tzai sfiggoun ta rammata, kops'ta-kops'to, prin na xtupisoun thn porta,
Ma en ekatalabes re;

[But where did foxy joyce bury his grandmother?
etrampare me re file
trampa on the trampoline

[There's a hole in my life/bucket/doughnut/cheese]

Ston villo mou an eisai perizhtitos, e eutuxws pou stamatisen na vreshei, tzai fkhken tzai o hlios

san to
san tooo
entalos eni?
san ton Blake.

Saturday, May 28, 2005


ekswthen ke peripou,
stin Poli pou nistepsa,
to Gramma sou me fernei p'esso sou,
anapodwnta polews ousies:

'I have almost forgot the taste of fears;
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
Cannot once start me.'

o Megas Erwtikos, aksestos kai anaudos en meri,
ta krifa sou paramithia, tou iliggou alitheia (iliggos!)

'Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.'

mipws paeis i mipws erxese? - kaneis na figeis - katse katse wspou na figeis.
gerasmeni poli, wspou gernas pellaniskeis.

Monday, May 16, 2005

(prosexete, nomizw oti thkiavazoun mas akoma)

kalos to kalojari. akoma en exrisimopiisa kamila, oute ll(lllll?)ama, (mmm alpaca!), alla eftasa ws tin poli me liges diskolies. distixos en tha kamw bloom fetos, tou xronou pou enna eimai pio monterna enna'shei parapanw fasi. emblektika me tes metafrasis, me tes aitisis, me tous beatles, me tes skepsis tou athkiaserou, jai perimenw sas mes'sto waiting room tis Bishop.

if i had known the word
when i was 15,
i would have used it
all the time]

Tuesday, May 10, 2005


en kala pou lalei toutos.

Sunday, April 17, 2005


Monday, April 11, 2005

no-mad(ic) writing comes to an end

eipa na chekkarw to ombion simera, twra pou eftasa sto glyko potamo tis guatemalas. eskeftika, 'mborei na grapsw jai kati'. eprolaves me re christo.

se 4 meres teliwnoun oi peripeties jai ta taksithkia. se 4 meres enna jimithw pa'ston kanape tis elenis, enna shesw mes'se toualetta pou en eshei katsarides, se 4 meres o plousios kosmos ennan i pliopsifia, jai oi leptoi ennan leptoi logou modas, oi peinas.

imoun thima simera - tou sistimatos, eipe mou o philippe. irte mou na tou pw jai kanenan sxolio larkin-esque afou epienne polla alla eskasa, jai pkierwsa. ematha polla omws. eida kati xrwmata pou en eksanaeida. akousa to bob marley legend 100 fores xwris na to thelw, jai an mou tragoudisi kanenas ksana to 'mi gusto di gaassolliiiina' enna ton/tin spasw pou to ksilo. eida mian poli na ginei ekklisia yia 2 meres, agorasa mian ounjia yia 10 lires, efaa evdominta dio mangos kai trianta okto avokados, kathe fora pou ethorousa rizi eskeftoumoun 'ma en exoume yiaourti' san etragoudousa to jackeroo. evrisa tous evreous, peripeza tous gallous, jai agnoousa tous amerikanous. jai eftasa se ena simberasma. o kosmos en pellos.



Πλησίον μια μικρή βροχή μ' όλους των άκοπων ακόμη
Οπωροφόρων τους στενούς συγγενείς και τα παιδιά
Μαζί μωβ ανθύλλια όλα στραμμένα
Δυτικά της λύπης

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

ica-ica iiiica ica-lima lima-liiimmaa

matching peaches?
oi oi kanei.
twra paw parakatw.
kapou.... dame..

Sunday, March 06, 2005

(sun)day, philosophy in absence

diavazontas kiriakatikes kipriakes efimerides (w sun-oxymoron), touto en i moni anafora, i moni leksi estw pou mou etravise to endiaferon - kiriaki tou enthetou 'politismou', tis analisis, tou logou, tis kinwniologias kapiou ax(a)ristou kipreou pou espoudase kapou to mai tou 78 eksw pou to parisi, kapiou filosofou tis athinas, kapiou kallitexni ek-kentrikou londinou. assen, touti en i moni 'filosofia' pou anakalipsa:

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

eida kati grammes simera.

Monday, February 21, 2005

edging around the box


we're in a room without a door
and I am sure without a doubt
they're gonna wanna know how we got in here
they're gonna wanna know how we plan to get out.
we better have a good explanation
for all the fun that we had
'cuz they are coming for us, baby
and they’re going to be mad
yeah, they’re going to be mad at us
-Shameless(ly into Angry Girls)

“The box is only temporary” – Plath (The Arrival of the Bee Box)

Jai jame pou (en) to perimeneis,

When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

- Wallace Stevens (Thirteen ways of looking at a blackbird)

Oh and speaking of jam jars, Stevens, boxes, and edges…

Anecdote of the Jar

I placed a jar in Tennessee
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.

peri melissas o logos


when they said he could walk on water
what it sounds like to me
is he could float like a butterfly
and sting like a bee
literal people are scary, man
literal people scare me
out there trying to rid the world
of its poetry
while getting it wrong fundamentally
down at the church of "look,
it sez right here, see!"
(literal, ANI DIFRANCO?)

Behailed His Gross the Ondt, prostrandvorous upon his dhrone, in his Papylonian babooshkees, smolking a spatial brunt of Hosana cigals, with unshrinkables farfalling from his unthinkables, swarming of himself in his sunnyroom, sated before his com- fortumble phullupsuppy of a plate o'monkynous and a confucion of minthe (for he was a conformed aceticist and aristotaller), as appi as a oneysucker or a baskerboy on the Libido, with Floh biting his leg thigh and Luse lugging his luff leg and Bieni bussing him under his bonnet and Vespatilla blowing cosy fond tutties up the allabroad length of the large of his smalls.

Who are these people at the bridge to meet me? They are
The rector, the midwife, the sexton, the agent for bees.
In my sleeveless summery dress I have no protection,
And they are all gloved and covered, why did nobody tell
They are smiling and taking out veils tacked to ancient

I am nude as a chicken neck, does nobody love me?
Yes, here is the secretary of bees with her white shop
Buttoning the cuffs at my wrists and the slit from my neck
to my knees.
Now I am milkweed silk, the bees will not notice.
Thev will not smell my fear, my fear, my fear.

Which is the rector now, is it that man in black?
Which is the midwife, is that her blue coat?
Everybody is nodding a square black head, they are
knights in visors,
Breastplates of cheesecloth knotted under the armpits.
Their smiles and their voices are changing. I am led
through a beanfield.
(the bee meeting, SYLVIA PLATH)

Sunday, February 20, 2005

- Stranger? I... do not understand... What has happened here?
-Everything has happened.

In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse

Tear (duct/apart)

doubling in and out, con-tinuing off the page, the skin con-tain(t)s and com-municates. The shock of being proved pleasantly wrong is never any the less shocking in the meager amount of times it occurs in. one part here and one part there "all decays to the same black humus" (and i am not talking about the dip, but the juice that was so clearly presented to me in a new moment of unexpectedness). now today is tomorrow, and tomorrow is today, and yesterday is weaving in and out. (bundt kori, bundt). would you care for a manual? [troubleshooting: it won't download all the images.]

maybe some other time, fuck you very much
and after the fourth, it came out like water from an estuary.
all together eventful, in its uneventfulness.

(references: alan moore, tseliot, cake, ani difranco)

Sunday, February 13, 2005


Being able to stop, not- spining like(s) me because the only thing standing still still keeps still- i am the wind that blows off (or spreads out) our faces (that could be theirs 'but mooving' in a way i cannot re-call[η-ληθη-α!]). Αλλωστε (ο δασκαλος) "Το σημαντικο ειναι να πιανεις τον ηχο ενω ταξιδευει", but capture (it) how dear(rest) of forms! "Κανε στην ακρη Να σε βρω Δασκαλεμενε Δασκαλευτηκα Κι εγω Σου λεω Μη μιλας Γνωριζω το Ονειρο μην το ξυπνησεις Θα με ονειρευτει Εκεινο Αλλιως Παγιδα- Ειδα.". Κι υστερα, ή μαλλον προτερα ο Νietzsche: " Η ληθη δεν ειναι απλως Vis inertiae[δυναμη αδρανειας] οπως πιστευουν οι επιπολαιοι, αλλα μαλλον μια ενεργητικη, θετικη με τη πιο αυστηρη εννοια του ορου ικανοτητα αναστολης, στη οποια πρεπει να αποδοθει το γεγονος οτι καθε τι που βιωνουμε και απορροφουμε γινεται τοσο λιγο συνειδητο κατα τη διαρκεια της "πεψης" (θα μπορουσαμε να ονομασουμε τη διαδικασια αυτη "ψυχικη αφομοιωση") οσο και η πολλαπλη διαδικασια που λαμβανει χωρα κατα τη σωματικη θρεψη- η ονομαζομενη "αφομοιωση". Το να κλεινουμε καθε τοσο τις πορτες και τα παραθυρα της συνειδησης΄[...]λιγη ησυχια΄ λιγη tabula rasa [αγραφος πινακας] της συνειδησης, προκειμενου να κανουνε λιγο χωρο για καινουρια πραγματα[...]- ιδου ποιο ειναι το οφελος της ενεργητικης ληθης[...]- φυλακα της ψυχικης ταξης, της ηρεμιας: [...]δε μπορει να υπαρξει ευτυχια, ευδιαθεσια, ελπιδα, περηφανια, παρον διχως την ιδιοτητα της ληθης.Ο ανθρωπος του οποιου αυτος ο ανασταλτικος μηχανισμος εχει παθει βλαβη[...] μπορει να συγκριθει με εναν δυσκεπτικο- δε μπορει πια να "τελειωσει" τιποτα..." κι εγω "Ας μην ηταν να θυμαμαι αλλα να ξερω΄ κι ολο ξερω να θυμαμαι' ή θυμαμαι οτι ή ξερω" ή "ειμαστε εξαλλου εμεις τοσο πολλες, που θαρρω πως- καποιαν παντοτε ξ ε χ ν α ω στο σκοταδι" και ξανα ο Nietzsche: "Ο,τιδηποτε ειναι βαθυ αγαπα τη μασκα. [...] Καθε βαθυ πνευμα εχει αναγκη απο μια μασκα: ακομα περισσοτερο γυρω απο καθε βαθυ πνευμα στερεοποιειται διαρκως μια μασκα, χαρη στη διαρκως λανθασμενη, δηλαδη στη ρηχη αναγνωση καθε λεξης, καθε ιχνους ζωης, που αυτο δινει". Spinning again like "ταλαντευμα, εξαισιος ιλιγγος" ο Ριτσος κι εγω: " 'Τι ψαχνεις,λεει,αφου σε ψαχνουν' Κι αμα κρυφτω μεσα στο πληθος Αμα Το ξερω θα με βρουν- ειναι τα ψευτικα μαλλια, ή να΄ναι ψεμα και το πιστεψα Πως Το κεφαλι πυρ- πωλωντας ΄Ολακερη η λαμπαδοφορια θα εισαι εσυ΄ ", "Με ποδια αλλα απαρασαλευτοι"...and could that be creation? stopping or spotting; spinning or sniping;

yet "i'm a tree that grows higher" and quiet and "leaves of mine, be-come soundfull"

[Dhmhtrh eida enan esu]

Saturday, February 05, 2005

C.-ale- (Seamiwseis tis Rwgmis)

Ate kale, xana tha apantisw to kalesma, kai ton knismo tou totem tha apsifisw. Milw stou mellonta tous hronous, not least, trofos tou pentziki. To parellthon einai to paron tou mellontos. Apostagmata kai ale-ale- sta akrodaktyla, mines meta kai meta apo ta idia tragoudia, emenw stin anasa sou. Allazwntas patwmata, allazwntas kai hwres kai megalwnontas, horohronika, immensely kai akariaia. Mporei to plithos kai i syhnotita na synithizwntai kai na feugoun ma menei i gefsi kai to orama. I mnimi me tin protokathedria tis kathws epanallamvanei kaneis to ela kai to fyge tou ygrou apospamatos tou olou sou. Epekteinw ta heria opws antikeimenos sou einai o nous. Entos tis katataxis, me tin rwgmi sta katw (ektos ap'ta methysia st' ai giannis tin giorti, pou emtopizame ta pdia panw kai ta kefalia hame ki anapoda), kai opws ypomnimatizw noitika gia tous epomenous ta proigoumena tou hronou kai tis diathlasis tou fwtos se alles glwsses, gia tin afi tis ygrasias epimenw kai twn heiliwn to synapantima. Psahnw tis pediades kai ta plateus twn pediwn volis tis thallasas tou agrinou. Twn apodehtwn oriwn diakekomenis meta feministikis symperiforas. Ashetws an stin opsi, me to fws nero katakoryfo, ta synora kai oi nomoi amfisvitunte. Pyli toy paradeisou kai i pigi mias kainourgias omorfias to stereotypo. Ma kai to risko. I afwni epivevewsi tou stithous kai to pyrotehnima tis enstolis perithoriopoisis, gia hari tis haris, i sympathitiki asfalisis, apo to neo sto palio ki ap'ta polla sta liga. Den eimai o James Bond. Oute kan voutihtis. Ki an o Elvis koimithike st'alitheia kapou edw to lefko twn provollwn sou, ashetw onomatws, to ehw osfristei, toulahiston, egw kai i avra sou. Makria apo tin efivia, oso ki an mas onomaizei kai klwthogyrizwntas mas daktylodeihnei ton thavmasti tis Godiva, etsi milw gia sena kai gia mena epifyllasomenos tin pollaplasiazomeni diaieresi epi tou pothiotou, afou einai akoma Savvato.

Ki an i katanoisi amfisvitite apo tin seimiologia einai giati akoma kai o Barthes, sta lexikografika tou syngramata tin engateliepse. Kai tin mia kai tin alli. Gia na meinei, parwmiws, erwn. Erwn entos afis akrodaktylwn kai osfrisewn taxidevmenon gia to mellon. Entos amihanwn kai heiras. Me mboukles i hwris. Akyri algevra tou m+n sta defterolepta tis entasis pou apotraviounte gia wres metamesonuhties, en kinisei i (full stop)

Epestrefe kai perne me glykia mou aisthisi

Thursday, February 03, 2005

appearance as withdrawal

ke pios den oneireutike enan ximo sun-island mes tin kake(u)keria tis agglias.
Absolute Eliot (prepei na miazei san mpoukala absolute):

-----------------------My mind…---------------------
-----------------------[is] absolut---------------------
-----------------------e, in that it------------------------
-----------------------is a point of-----------------------
------------------viewfrom which I can-----------------------
----------------not possibly escape...; d------------------------
----------------erived, in that I am able,-------------------------
----------------by virtue of the continuity------------------------
---------------of mind with the non-ment------------------
---------------al, to trace in some ways its---------------------
---------------origin, with that of other mi---------------------
---------------nds, from an indifferent mat-----------------------
---------------erial…we must remember th----------------------
---------------at no view is original or ultim--------------------
---------------ate: when we inquire into the-------------------
---------------real world…we mean the worl--------------------
---------------d from the viewpoints of finite--------------------
---------------centres as subjects only; we m------------------
---------------ean the real world for us now, n-----------------------
---------------ot from the point of view of som------------------------
---------------e further developed mind tracin-------------------------
---------------g its ancestors and the world the----------------------------
---------------y lived in. (Eliot, Knowledge and------------------------------
--------------- Experience, p.145)......................-------------------------

forget it, lets not forget:

I have put forward the proposition according to which there would never be “metaphysics”, “closure” not being here a circular limit bordering a homogeneous field but a more twisted structure which today, according to another figure, I would be tempted to call: “invaginated.” (Derrida, The Retrait of Metaphor, p.14)

Why should ‘literature’ still designate that which already breaks away from literature – away from what has been conceived and signified under that name – or that which, not merely escaping literature, implacably destroys it? (Derrida, Dissemination, p.3)

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

WARNING: I have the power to trap you in giant jam jars

Let her be
Gertrude was never a Gertrude was never never a was was Gertrude a never poet Gertrude was never a Stein

[otan se velpw thwrw mono xrwmata]

Feukw pou tin Lania, tzai paw pio notia. Vriskw tous Kypreous, tzai sinexizw to taksidi.

Eimasten pio HC.
Eimasten pio palioi.
Eimasten ninja.

Saturday, January 22, 2005

en grisa oulla giro mas

tse eno ego kathe mera oulli mera grafo grafo grafo tes agrafes skepsis sta gri pezodromia. lalite gi afto nan gri? lalite na grafoun ti egine pou estripsa dexia anti aristera pou en sas ixera pou en me xerete i gia ti mera pou ekatalava ego oti mpori na ime hromatisti tse oi diafani?

A man cut from the future
is waiting for me in the rain.
The walls are undressed
and left like a child,
the past is packed for transit
in its familiar box. Later I ask him
did you know I would find you?
am I no longer alone?
He kisses me among the selves
that never made it this far.

[Flowers - Polly Clarke]

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Going Public

Tripse me me traxana

Thursday, January 13, 2005


Ezra Pound

Horizontal on a deckchair in the ward
of the criminal mad....A man without shoestrings clawing
the Social Credit broadside from your table, you saying,
"...here with a black suit and black briefcase; in the brief,
an abomination, Possum's hommage to Milton."
Then sprung; Rapallo, and the decade done;
and three years later, Eliot dead, you saying,
"Who's left alive to understand my jokes?
My old Brother in the arts...besides, he was a smash of a poet."
You showed me your blotched, bent hands, saying, "Worms.
When I talked that nonsense about Jews on the Rome
wireless, Olga knew it was shit, and still loved me."
And I, "Who else had been in Purgatory?"
You, "I began with a swelled head and end with swelled feet."

- Robert Lowell

Monday, January 10, 2005


"- ok?"
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door -
"Eisai moni sou;" "pareta me tes malakies, apla pe mou" "O Salvadore en pou to Dhali."
Ton jairo mou, eperpatousame, me kappelo jai bastouni. Imastoun oulloi tou Godot.
Pinw to krasi tou yia na ksemethisw. Pinw poura yia na katharisw tous pneumones mou. Thkiavazw vivlia yia na arrwstisw.

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through -

and suddenly the world became that much smaller. And the Panic that much heavier.
Back to t/here, put back into the arche. Lania. Pamen Lania. Pamen Lania yia na...
and I'm sweating a lot by now and thinking of
leaning on the john door in the 5 SPOT
while she whispered a song along the keyboard
to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing

"Are you-" "Sil-""Goo-""Do you - ""Oh Thank You" "Pou en i a-" I learnt the dash from emily.
Not Michaelangelo, but talking, talking, talking. to amathus eginen ksenodoxeio. jai oi ninjas indexicals. makari na imoun egw enan indexical. mballerina indexical.

Ahhhh. Twra tha pamen express! Ox! Den eksouristika!
This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

thkiavazoun mas jai grafoumen tous: enta pou thoreis re St. Clare?

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