Goal
And when I finally met my duty
even the poem needed to hide
behind the white page
to vanish between my three fingers
from afar to gaze at the world
and understand its deathlessness
while I stood before my future
a mask on my face and I wondered
why Lucifer mocked me, an adulterer
that I was, numismatic value
of the flesh, cheap and tarry, made of
straw; my tools for advancement
fed carnivorous beasts
with displayed moustaches
smooth arms heavy and strong
that carried fresh water pitchers
to the hovel wherein I slept lightly
like an evening vesper
whoosh of lapping waves, faint
little black between the virgin’s legs
exquisite mystery that I loved
to the point of no return
and this the duty of my earthly life
Hellenic Canadian Literature 