dry season blues
im posting from the backseat of a car
caught in a family conflict today
there is a freedom that comes to my imagination
but not inside this atmosphere
maybe the minimum temperature here
maybe the maximum temperature there
and strapped into this turbulence
with too much motion for me to move
i could make so many calculations
but i couldnt do poetry to save my life
//
therefore sitting-down-beside
i was greeting Critias and the others
and i was guiding-through for them
those away from the army camp
whatever someone would ask me
i was questioning
they were questioning
and each was questioning an other
//
παρακαθεζόμενος οὖν
ἠσπαζόμην τόν τε Κριτίαν ἄλλους
καὶ διηγούμην αὐτοῖς
τὰ ἀπὸ στρατοπέδου
ὅτι μέ τις ἀνέροιτο
//
🌕