El Greco - Domenikos Theotokopoulos

"I believe that people like Conrad, Nabokov, Jonas, Manolis, and Bronowski have an advantage in crossing over from another language; they do things with English words which native speakers would never think of. El Greco illustrates my point superbly."
- John Skapski

Dawn
Nauseated with the littleness
of city non-living,
the savage humdrum
mind grasping splinters

	on the surface of nowhere
	never sated with the neck-down delights
	and all carnal pleasures,
	I embark on a quest for that 

special conifer, the sequoia,
that special flower in the midst
of the impassable thicket
the man who sees man as man. 

	Many a time with tenderness
	I shared a soft pillow with
	a hardened, suspicious Death.
	Many a time I took Him by the hand… 

...He shares with me a non-fat latte
at the neighborhood Starbucks.
Many a time I challenged Him, and,
always with a short giggle 

	He walked away gracefully saying…
	"Not yet...
	Not yet...I
	have things for you to do..."



My spirit I summon from the
realms of the void,
to descend in the roots and
trace a course. 

	I dive deep past all
	sunlit gates of consciousness
	looking for a sign,
	straight like a blue spruce 

with duty marked on its fresh bark.
I search for a beacon,
as the lyre slices the air
in pieces of silver.