στάχτες

If lives of people
should be complete sentences
then my own is a fragment
adjective-happy,
short on verbs

through a pinprick
in a sheet of paper
I witness
what I believe to be
the narratives of others

what I send through
like the golden plaque
of the pioneer
into irreconcilable spaces
can never be
important enough
to intercept

***

She rests her head
among her saints
early in the evenings
and tries to sleep
despite the hum
of other people’s laundry

Three feet beneath the living,
three feet above the dead
she rests the fatigued resilience
of the God-tried
in a room
illuminated but poorly
by the faint
day-mimicking light
of her tired face

*

©Constantine Mountrakis
‘Michaux sur son Vélocipède’ – Photograph by Disdéri, 1867



Bio
Constantine Mountrakis is an anthropologist and writer from New York City. He currently lives in Athens, Greece, where he is pursuing a doctorate. Aside from hanging out in a laboratory full of dead people, he also writes. His work has appeared in Red Fez, Punchnel’s, Blue Hour Magazine, and Feile-Festa, among others.