Wednesday, March 11, 2015


Toward the end
Mihalis Katsaros had no teeth.

It seems he left them as collateral
to poetry.

This explains why his words bite
bone and marrow at once

like a swarm of magnificent

Perhaps his testament was really
these teeth

and his pages dirt, nourishing
a crop of giants

hairy, one-eyed
with arms like sickles

with a voice made of caves and stampede
with letters on the forehead

in splendid flame engraved
with bird beaks for nails

with wells for mouths, wherein there wait in ambush
armies of the unquiet dead.

Poem by Lenin Reloaded, written 21 November 2009, self translated.

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