the stars i like more than the rest: the ones you catch sight of down a right-of-way of the night, just above a road cresting the hill, tampering with the shadowed edge of trees, the stars come down above a fence, a skyline, in reach putting the lie across they’re close close as a dream in the waking.
a jumble of sun flipped beneath the tables on the tablecloth you dab flakes of crust sunlight gashed marble in a glass of water.
as though we had all stepped under – perhaps the roaring train, dragged in the banner’s gale of steel, banner of those who’ve taken that harsh shore by force – as though we had all stepped under, the muslin gaps of shade racks of card sky enamelled by wind
betray an instinct of surprise,
so the dead, a gust of confetti, grains of sugar you crack on the tablecloth.
*One of the streets in the Plaka district of Athens. Wikipedia describes the Plaka as:‘Pláka (Greek: Πλάκα) is the old historical neighborhood of Athens, clustered around the northern and eastern slopes of the Acropolis, and incorporating labyrinthine streets and neoclassical architecture’
I believe that in a few minutes of sunlight on this street, as a young man, I came upon my very own person for the first time.
The music is from the solo violin work “Gyftiko” (Gypsy) by John Psathas, performed here by Rusanda Panfili at the Evmelia International Music Festival in Volos, Greece on April 2nd 2012. I chose this piece in part because on my first night in Athens on Kydathinaion Street an elderly violinist in a well-worn suit played for us a traditional lament that this recording recalls for me.