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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