Greek Avant Garde Poetry



     

Spiros Meimaris






1961


He came up-his overcoat and his eyes had the same color. 

Words come up-spontaneous words and phrases-my pants to the intellect-collect 
words-you won't understand-I found the way in his pajamas-his hands hard as a rock-
God, he exclaims-he scares me-in front of the fireplace-rest a while-nothing to eat-in
the Roman Forum. No American Express today-Can't see outside-dirty shirt-Me-here they come! Come
again-yellow fingers-that's nice. No portrait by spade-turn around-in the train-You- Toscanini's eyes-trumpet-boyhood
dreams-boyhood handwriting-My things! My suitcase! Paranoia stop! Afraid to look
back-Everything is all right! Believe me-Marcus Aurelius-Negro songs-go away
please! I'm gonna be tough- My towel stares at me-You've got no real power over the roof tops-Zaza the thief in
the rain-I can see him- My eyes Don't worry-Inside-what will happen-
He can't think anymore All children love Hitler (Paris 1961)



Conversation in bed with Brian Massett




Red ink-and then he will see me-his steps I hear-His hands are dirty-I mean my hands 
are dirty-A white towel I know it-I knew it-I hope he doesn't bring Bill upstairs-I like
to stay but I shouldn't really-Words, laughs, serenades, my eyes, my eyes, my eyelids,
profile, My hair with a light behind them My teeth behind my lips My breast hurts-
two lamps No seaports, no seaports for me r-s What time is it? Syphilis-great sickness
Two shirts-Why? Desert boots-it's me you conceited fool! Are you Greek? I don't
want to be Greek-Sorry, I didn't quite understand who you were-Don't get upset man
Panayotis-Don't feel bad about it Spyros, don't worry about it. We fought with Brian
tonight-he looked like Dracula-His ass hurts-He really wants to see my ass-"You're so
good Spyros, you're a lovely person" It's like writing down an orgasm, a fuck-
Writing about fucking has nothing to do with fucking-fucking is just fucking-Man,
you sound nice. (Paris 1961)



Ego



My hands white (they belong to somebody else) Mayakovsky. The little cloud over 
Menlo Park-green grass Mike!-I'll take a shower-wrapping newspapers all night
California-let's dance holding a bottle of milk-Throw paint all over me please-A
happy song-who am I? Old memories of myself-You're a cunt and your mother is a
cuntess-Man, I love ink! Old shoes, I look down on them-Two summers in the Greek
islands-feel the cold-She is scared-Wow! That's a real kick-Fuck me! Fuck me!
Woolen pants About a friend of mine: he doesn't do anything, he just fucks. I know
two kinds of people: the ones who resemble my father and the ones who don't. The
Mohammedan ghost comes back again-Arabs all around me-Poros light comes thru
the window-my face changed-I can have a doctor if I get sick-I try to find the smile on
his face-it better be there otherwise I'm gonna feel sad. Suffering comes back, I can't
do without it-I swim in brain light and also sun light. Oh God! Life is Fun. We're all
equal under the magnificent Face of the Sun. Just come back with all yr accessories,
yr beautiful groceries. (Paris 1961)



He Stopped and Settled




He stopped and settled
inside the quiet magic room,
when suddenly was hit by the idea
everything was just fine as it was,
everything was OK
and it would always be like that.


So he crossed the room
with a new and childish look 
on his face, almost whistling. 
I mean he would surely whistle
if he knew how. 

(Athens 1971)