vicki's place  
cycladia
next
Vicki's Place





Bird song 
like crickets,
trumpets the cars
quarrelling 
on the promenade.
 

 

So many places to go,
forgetting quests
and
heroic conquests,
guessing
is what language does best
as the smell of braizing meat 
collides with sound in the hot air.
 

 

If we walk
as upright as heaven
or crawl out from beneath a historic rock
wrestling with ghosts
and the echoes of all noise,

then, futures wiil be 
forever perfumed
in myths and wives tales.
 
 

 


Where else does the idea of gods 
drop
from the sky
as if guano upon the open sea?

Where else can each cell of thought
perform its party trick 
in make believe and heredity,
between
all these things
gods and we
transform?

23/6/02 (lefkadi)