Circe

this one hums   crawls from her cave
            near Vouliagmeni

shakes out her hair
            dislodges anemones

smoothes her dress
            hanging like a curtain of gold

la la la sings as she pushes her right foot
            into its silver sandal

decides to go to Glyfada
            for it’s evening   now cool

steps onto the No. 115 bus
            moving her hips just enough

for those who stare   wonders if
            she tucked in her breasts
            rubbed the fur down on her arms

reminds herself not to open her mouth
            or they will follow her on

Metaxes Street   turn to the harbor
            it’s getting so a girl

can’t even have a quiet night in town
            everyone wants a siren

wants to drown in someone else’s song.

            (from Oasis & Entering the Labyrinth, Pudding House)