A Time of Colonels Sappho falls off Lefkada's cliffs Greek colonels falling with her, fawn creases fading up the buttocks, the polished boots descending. When the waves close over Sappho lives on, fragmentary scribbles of a feminist suicide. The colonels dissolve into tortures. The sea looks angrily, us staring down from the heights. We are totally baffled: "Colonels? Sappho? Look, we're just standing here." Next |
The East Village Poetry Web Douglas Oliver |