ime prezakias

[constantine]

i walk the streets of the waterfront
the back haunts of piraeus, the dives
the tekes and cafe amans,
gutters where the refuse flows
with stray cats and beggars
a quarter - an anchovie, a sardine
and they lick my hand
i ply my trade among the fatted flesh
to pick a pocket with a well-turned rhyme
and after i've put in the hours
i try to turn my blood to wine
the needle has become my king
my dictator, my mussolini
like a vampire it feasts upon my shadow
because my flesh will not sustain
because my flesh will not sustain

[jackofnightmares]

greater love has no poet

[still.trucking]

please pardon my gut reaction and this second reply

[still.trucking]

in for a dime
poem gets better every time
I read it
thank you

[constantine]

thanks! the poem was inspired by an old rebetiko song of the same name; it translates to i'm a junkie.

[the mingo]

[saw]

great ending to a well crafted poem has an esoteric allure.....I dig it Dr. D

[constantine]

thanks guys!