All Greek to Me
The unbearable sadness
of a novelty singing fish.
The wasted life in a rusted wok.
The surrendered hope
in a dumped exercise bike.
The cry in the cracked slime
of a kid’s clam shell pool.
All that broken, copulating
shopping trolly army.
And this just the start.
There’s more, so much more
of this gentle grating raw
that Sophocles never saw,
because there was no Aegean K-Mart.
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