The cabaret

The cabaret

THE CABARET
HISTORIES
REFUGEES
IN THE CENTER OF WATER
LOVE POEM
THE ACCIDENT
THE OLDEST PROFESSION

I work in a factory that makes poems. One day, on the job,
my right hand is crushed between two enormous pencils.

Translated by David Mason & the author
[From the sequence The Facts]

AuthorYiorgos Chouliaras
2018-08-21T17:22:36+00:00 November 9th, 2014|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 99|0 Comments