The Little Mermaid Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

She is anxious, gazing the ships from her rock,
sees Mercury and Neptune as porters* and asks
me: 'Cousin, is Alexandrer the Great alive? ’
'Follow me, lets swim towards Cyprus', I reply
and I fix on her rock a concrete effigy of her.

We stopped at a floating field for golf. In there
gypsies and vagabonds insult and spit at her,
they sting her with talons, nails, they laugh loudly,
throw rotten at her, a gang flings red paint over her,
says: 'you fool, why have you seduced our Prince? '
then he goes mad and cuts her head and an arm.

Those she holds gently and proceeds as a priestess,
she submerges and emerges pure with body restored,
then she beckons me to keep swimming for Larnaca.

'Is my brother Alexander the Great alive? ', she asks
galleys, galleons, frigates, aircraft carriers that pass by.
'If only the Myth, my handsome culture, is still living,
I can endure humiliations by any ugly, boorish gang'.



© JosephJosephides