Agoloso Presents - Atondido Stories Agoloso Presents - Mama Mada | Page 137
Mama Mada
we welcome the young of all groups
as our own with the solid nourishment
of food and warmth
we prepare the way with the solid
nourishment of self-actualization
we implore all the young to prepare for the young
because always there will be children.
The Poet In Samos
by Richard Gw yn
Here are the things you left behind:
an old bus ticket to a place with an illegible name,
a stack of government files from distinct regimes,
a pile of rocks, a copy of Cavafy, well-thumbed.
I don’t know how many meals you ate here,
by the seaward window. I don’t know
whether the shutter kept you awake at night
as it banged unheeded on the wall, or whether
as you claimed, it was a kind of comfort.
Reading Parentheses, I see once more how
the world became an adjunct to your poems,
your poems an adjunct to the world.
Here are the things that you invented, even
as they, in turn, invented you. Nothing was inanimate.
You turned each movement of the head,
each falling leaf or bicycle into the fragment of a story.
You told us that you hid behind simple things
and if we could not find you, we’d find the things instead.
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