13469760.0024.105Absinthe2377-3456Michigan Publishing, University of Michigan LibraryAnn Arbor, MI13469760.0024.105http://hdl.handle.net/2027/spo.13469760.0024.105Article“Athena”(poetry)Hooleh MaryamCrossCameron18062018241World Hellenisms2018This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Please contact mpub-help@umich.edu to use this work in a way not covered by the license.
Athena
See, how down we tumbled
And the spectacle through and through
Licked our faith
We kept clear of the dogs
Until our heart
Hung from the howls of civilization
All expansive hopes
With the groan of narcissism
Sank
Into the graveyard of human limbs
And nothing but shoes
Remained . . .
See, how the Kurds have brought
Vagrancy
To Athens’ portico
And the whores of Albania
Walk
On torn and tattered veils
And the tiled floor of the dead
And drape the mottled arms of beauty-spots
Over last century’s cabarets
And set the lock
What a strange dance!
As birds
With severed necks
Fly
Over the PKK’s wall
And as patriots
With broken teeth
Spit
And hatred and helplessness
Form a brotherhood
Ah—
How I adore painting
Yet at the same time
I loathe
Every kind of shirt
As for the painters
In democracy’s capital—
Behead them
Only their fingernails have been capable
Of planting a flag in my heart
Flag
Flag
All this color
Is no longer worth nature’s glory
The rainbow hangs from the gibbet
And no color
Has refuge
In the arms of another
Flaunting the residence permit
Showers from its dawn
With the kernel of hope
Until the clouds
In an astonishing assembly
Form
The image of calcified prophets
And dream men
All become believers
Don’t ask that one to take my hand
Don’t ask that one
To gather my feet
From the surface of the mire
That one obeys their shoe
(And the shoe will forever
Madly
Traverse
The blisters and blood
With an armload of firewood and beer)
Until breaking
See, how down we tumbled
And my heart poured out
From the hair of youth
As one estranged
My mother guesses you
And you join in
Her weeping over me
O Freedom
No one knew
How they had
To embrace you
Next winter
I’ll worship
The forests of your song
In the fireplace
Next spring
Zarathustra’s children
Will kill him
Like the new-year bonfire
And I know nothing
About you
In one hand heroin
And silver in the other
I’ll go to the Omonoia Square
And lay out my wares
And tomorrow
I’ll invite you
To a game of billiards
And order a debate
For you
Not knowing that last night
In a road of darkness
Tehran
Has killed you
And that in the morning
The BBC
Has licked
Your wounds
With measured ruminations
If I lost
Convince me
To forever wear black
And light two candles
Upon my shoes
Athens, August 23, 1998