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)
