The Trials of Greece
from my Canto in A Modern Don Juan: Cantos for These Times by Divers Hands
i.
The trials of Greece, the trials of Greece,
Where tragic Callas thrilled the nation
And shrill Mercouri would not cease
To ask for the repatriation
Of Elgin’s—there translation garbles—
Let’s just say Greece has lost her marbles.
Ii.
Muses of Ritsos and Cavafy—
Seferis, Palamas, Elytis—
Have they all gone for Turkish coffee?
Or Nescafe? How bitter-sweet is
Poetry and song—but lo,
Who shut down public radio?
iii.
The mountains look on Marathon
And Marathon looks on the bay,
Olympic venue ten years on
And nothing’s gained, and all to pay.
Security still has its demons
Despite those hefty bribes to Siemens.
i.v.
Persia now is called Iran,
Darius has long gone to dust,
Cyprus nixed the Annan plan
And no one takes her banks on trust.
Austerity is blind, or deaf,
And Freedom is the IMF.
v.
In Constitution square, conveners
Deliver megaphonic sermons
In the traditional fifteneers,
Or blast Philippics on the Germans—
Occupation come full circle—
Its all so murky, call it Merkel.
vi.
(You know the joke—it’s rather droll—
Ms. Merkel visits this fair nation
And when guards at passport control
Say, name? Frau Merkel. Occupation?
She laughs a little—here’s the sting—
And says, “nein, I’m just visiting.”)
vii.
A day late and a euro short,
The IMF admits mistakes—
Although it’s too late to abort.
No bureaucrat exaggerates—
Austerity, youths in capotes
Will tell you is, in Greek, litotes.
viii.
But blame the politicians too—
Who were too busy getting rich—
Byzantine teams of Green and Blue—
To notice the old bait-and-switch.
No longer can they flaunt their lots:
The dry docks chock-a-block with yachts,
ix.
Though hardly any go to jail,
Each party quick to grant asylum
So that, when it’s their turn to fail,
And their own newspapers revile ‘em,
They wriggle out of the kerfluffle
The decks are stacked that parties shuffle.
x.
Give me some ouzo, or retsina—
With no receipt, or VAT.
When Xerxes sat on Salamina
And watched his tubs sink in the sea—
He didn’t know to thank his luck.
Who runs this country runs amok.
xi.
The unemployment rate is rising,
While pensions sink and prices spike.
What is the use of moralizing?
Let’s have a drink, and go on strike—
A poet’s strike. That’s what we need!
They’ll beg us for the latest screed!
xii.
Even graffiti has to rhyme,
Even the anarchists must scan!
The fascists chant in perfect time—
As do the lefties, to a man
(or woman)—slogans, cries, and curses—
What is a protest sans the verses?
xiii.
Yes, thanks, I’ll have some ouzo yet—
A liquid pure and clear as Lethe,
Until some water gets it wet
And it goes cloudy underneath. The
Problem churns and gets no better:
The ouzo just keeps getting wetter.
xiv.
On Byron street, the T-shirts sell
With slogans from Thermopylae.
300 Spartans went to hell
That Greeks (Helots aside) be free.
There’s money, if the mint will make it—
Let’s tell the Troika, come and take it!
xv.
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece,
The Greeks will sell them, one by one,
And hope to buy a little peace
By auctioning the sea and sun.
No war has been their fate, but tax,
And greed, and debt, and Goldman Sachs.
xvi.
Europe, thy very name is Greek—
You were a princess once, and fair,
Wide-eyed, perhaps. A little weak,
But everyone has flaws to bear.
The journey promised, wonderful;
But the ride you were taken on was Bull.
copyright A. E. Stallings
From A Modern Don Juan: Cantos for These Times by Divers Hands, edited by Andy Croft & N.S. Thompson, Five Leaves Publications.
