--Yannis Ritsos (trans Martin McKinsey)
Flowerpots lining the whitewashed stairs.
Two large yellow gourds on the open landing.
That’s all I’m going to tell you, he said. The bicycle
resting up against the sunlit curb. Its rider
was inside eating. The steam from his bowl of wild greens
clouded over the small shaving-mirror on the wall.
The tablecloth was covered with printed roses.
The real rose was indistinguishable from the rest.
This was done on purpose by the rose.