DIARY ENTRIES - VASILIS

(6-2-2016)

TV is an urban myth here,

That no one believes in.

The kids here,

Play as if atom bombs

Never smelled like fried mushroom,

As if Wall Street never

Went bankrupt,

As if lightings are

The plastic miniature planets

Over their cribs,

And I speak as if I know hard truths,

That they don´t.

I am wrong,

I know the unnecessary truths;

They know the tree,

And I fantasize of roots,

That I have never seen.

One week after landing. (10-2-2016)

We have taken human forms,

Adjusted to Mexican standards.

Buenos días, buenas tardes

seem to do the job,

the rest is dead end smiles

and sign language.

How do I say:

´´I am white,

one day my bank

will swallow your life,

in a shotglass´´ in Spanish?

POEMS - VASILIS

Toast bread diploma.

If you ever

want to finish school,

ask for a toast bread diploma,

these things are worshipped!

Breakfast, lunch, brunch,

supper, dinner, hangovers,

parties, funerals,

anything;

And you can live

in a toaster apartment,

they ring the bell,

you jump off the roof,

they spread the butter,

and you’ve got the job.

Oatmeal beauty

Oatmeal beauty,

she was always ugly,

but heart(filling);

when dead boners

start walking you

over the street,

she will still be

the Oatmeal Beauty,

and hopefully reject you.

Laterman.

Laterman has all the good ideas,

like a smart garbage truck,

collecting from ‘tomorrow’ trashcans,

Laterman has all the keys,

to your future sportcar fantasies.

Laterman with his red vest,

working at a junkyard parking lot,

touching sexually the leather seats,

while you spend years,

waiting for a cocktail that tastes bad,

but has the little

paper umbrella that you like.