LONG LISTED FOR THE 2023 GRIFFIN POETRY AWARDS
Rag Pickers
Sometimes I sit and think of the rag pickers who always
come from faraway, Chalcedon or Petroupolis; their hats
are usually disanalogous to their dead, thus they slowly
forget their memories, sad and low ranked as they are;
Rimbaud would had pleasantly killed them with scissors
but I feel sorry for them since they have pieces of hay
in their hairs like the hay into which I sinned when I was
young; they also have two gunshots of the day’s surprise
in their eyes and the kitchen where they eat is full
of steam in the shape of gallows where, one day,
they’ll hang all the demagogues.
Hellenic Canadian Literature 