Arcadia Poem by Zoltan Galos

My Vito's cool metallic body
Feels empty
As I stretch the last drops
Of an excellent ouzo
Nursing a stealthy late night's
Excitement
Pincers of austerity cut those
Hardest who least deserve it -
Poets and paupers artists and animals.
The fat dog from upstairs
Cannot pounce
A pink squeaky slipper from
A child's foot clasped between its teeth
Outside the gate a big dead
Mouse had its last squeal.
Human fruitflies hover about
The veggie stalls of life
Opposite the shopping mall
A picture book of garden
By man who prides himself of having
Mastered nature
Pom - pom fashioning shrubs and trees
And the spiky dissatisfied
Slaughter the gentle.
Red - eyed fishlines are being pulled
Across the Med's deep blue.
But those with brains between
Their eyes follow past philosophers
Pacing the same road up and down
Every day clearing their minds
And only the artist's inspirations
Jams - up the canvas of his soul.
Columns of Arcadia hugged by highgrass -
Megalopoli -
What more will cave man still
Destroy? Yet its marble soul had
Escaped intact into the clouds
Despite its body scattered all
About the forgotten land.
The artist finds in high art
Faces resembling the new lost
Panhellenic generation
On sites of Panarcadian dreams.

Zoltan Zelan