poetryrepairs #245 18.01:008

SOTIRIOS PASTAKAS : I donít come from Eleusis
SOTIRIOS PASTAKAS : It smells like

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I donít come from Eleusis

No, I donít come from Eleusis. Southern Italy. Sandy returned from the Aegean rally in Nisyros. I found Yannis in 37 and he bought me a mojito. Mihos has reached the final stage of his glorious grieving. Akanthos undertook painting the first rung of the ladder. X2, true to his nickname, keeps chicks for only two weeks. Fotis is sick of his mug and wants to undergo face plastic surgery. Goumas hasnít set foot out of Chalandri. Nikos informs us that the Secret Service stopped monitoring his computer. It always happens like-so. The Furies have chased Irene out of Argos. Dimitri, his bosses out of Zara. Hectorís been kicked out of his house. Laskaris never stopped asking for loans in June, July and August. Kostas managed to double his profits. And Spyros writes a poem every day in Marseille, Glyfada and Olympia. Yannis and Tasia celebrated 50 years of marriage in Rovies. Mitsos voluntarily entered Sinouriís clinic for a month. Elena said she was cutting down on wine, then changed her mind. It always happens like-so. Gheli returned from a plain Chalkidiki with the doctor two years now still unmarried. Joanna escaped for a bit from her kids and her husband and went alone to Pylos. Katerina bought a small one-bedroom flat on the top floor in New Smyrna and is blissful. Maraki returned from her one-night stand to a cold douche at dawn. Lina was afraid to carry from Colombia a souvenir coca-leaf for everybody. Our wives had sex with our friends and we with the wives of our friends. Those of us who happened to still have children sat down and patched things up. It always happens like-so. Before the Revolution.

poetryrepairs #245 18.01:008

It smells like

It smells like Sunday roast in my balcony. I stretch my hands and find the stove turned off, the plates cold. I forgot again to cook. I feel full just with the aroma, even though nobodyís asked me to share the chicken and potatoes split in three. It wasnít by chance, I figure, that Iíd served in a battalion of undesirables.

poetryrepairs #245 18.01:008


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SOTIRIOS PASTAKAS Translated by Jack Hirschman and Aggelos Sakis