From 'The Wind in her Daughtership's Majesty'

The wind is my mascot

I shall not want


But even the wind

Is owned by names


And struggles against its hand




                                              wind  wind


                                              the wind so high


           rain keeps traveling


          through the sky


            so fine               so pretty


            She’s the girl from the golden city









Los Angeles, Heliopolis, Gold Rush lands of San Francisco



Willa and Clio and Emma and Zara and Sara



                   in a line in a row in a clutch



Gonca, Siarita, Helen, Angelakis, Eleni, Evangelia, Tatiani



Athens, Istanbul, Barcelona



Rosa, Carolina, Charlotte, Seline, Lucinda, Vasiliaki



line them up mix them up



wind   the wind


          The snow comes scattering


from the sky



in mourning or just likes black

on the prowl or just likes cleavage


making it up as they go along

picking through the debris to make temporary deals



How can they know they daunt

in their bright efficiency

raise fear in those fumbling to get closer



Do I or don’t I will I won’t I

rolling the dice and

watching the watchers as they promenade




Helen Sonja Olivia Petra Caitlina

struggling against the hand of their wind

But we wouldn’t call it that  

they say





What’s in a girl sugar eyes

yes she could might or would


With my heavy watch on I

take my Father’s pulse


turn to deflect

the protagonist’s punch