Winter 2006-7

Valery Oisteanu


Hope is the currency of the poor!
Good luck is the fortune of those who haven¹t any!
Those are the words of a rich boy sitting outside Bolero Club
Drachmas are history today in the world of Euro
Just like the ring of the King Minos
But no one can replace the undercurrent of greed
The strong engine that drives everyone at night to capitulate
At the altar of cash machine
ATM rules, lines of young consumers
Shoving their cards into the cash machine
Miracle of miracles on the Greek island
Money pouring out of a slot in the wall at the touch of a button
The smells of human waste linger in the port
Mixing with the expensive perfumes
Raining and thundering over the geckos in the gardens with parched olive trees
Vodkalinichta on the rocks and blasting music in the clubs of Mikonos
The Pasha Oglu with a trophy eighteen year old girl waves a proud welcome
To anyone willing to lose their hearing
Igor Gorsky, an artist exclaims ³I live across from Grace Church in Manhattan.²
A young woman artist, Alex Pop glues her sneakers to the canvas
And resells her corks and bottle caps as a collage
Andy Warhol is my God-she said,
But I sneak in some Jasper Johns and Pollock
How not to learn Greek in 25 Years is the title of a new book
and the story of my life
Greeks, they are still a mystery to me.




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