ALONG THE AEGEAN SHORE

ALONG THE AEGEAN SHORE

I thought I’d found

Demosthene’s beach,

but there was no wind,

the sun was blazing,

and the pebbles

tasted of diesel fuel

and dead fish. . .

so I perfected

my stammer,

embraced

tyrants, tarts

and hokey holy men,

learned waiting,

watched them

grow fat,

and slowly self-destruct.