Αλήθεια, μες στην ήττα πως αλλάζουν όλα.
Τίτος Πατρίκιος, «Απολογισμός»

As the earth gives way
and I plummet through
there’s something I need to tell you:
When you died
I stormed the church, rattling the icons
I got drunk at your funeral
I made a scene at the cemetery
when I tumbled into the grave
insisting you wake up
the freshly dug hole overflowing already
and I waist-deep in water
standing in the stillness for hours
thinking whether my thoughts still work
startled how the filthy pool
had begun to reflect the stars
under dog skies
swimming in a sea of sonic silence
everywhere howls
from newspapery faces
now I see it all
everywhere storm
lightning scattered space
strens flashing
divers in rescue vests searching for survivors…
Thinking backwards
I wish I could push the replay button
long removed from the remote.
The wind collapses through the window
and everything is happening at once.
The letterbox full of regrets.
Mother cried all the way home
and I ashamed that I stayed inside so long spurning outstretched arms.
Again I see:
always enough rope
supplied by hope.

*From “After life”