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Responses to American Poetry

The aim of this online space is to host the research work of university students or young scholars as this emerges from larger projects focusing on the American poetry scene. The objective of this initiative is to bring this kind of research activity to the attention of the general public in an attempt to further promote the exchange of ideas with regard to the process of reading, understanding and appreciating poetry writing.


Tatiani Rapatzikou 
(Associate Professor, School of English, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, Greece; Advisor and initiative co-ordinator


Anthony Kitsios


My Heel

The erection on the cross as you stand bounded
The deliverance of the flesh addressing my naked eyes
The untranslatability of the hands betraying the evident
I can smell the conductivity between two muted bodies

I have the right to - silent

When you color me with the absence of the finest colors
Those bold brushes can empty me before you cater
For the carving of my curves, for the scarring of my scars
Lying on me and lying to me, ignite me and scatter

I have the ---- to remain silent

If the fortune of the fool won’t name us
If the fortune of the blind won’t see us
If the fortune of the deaf won’t hear us
Then why don’t we exhale?

I - the right to remain silent

A barren field of chrysanthemums barebacks my bear feet
Is it you, my gracious minesweeper?
I fold my tears before you envelope me
Guess who remains unaltered?

I have the right to remain -----

I still apply on my bronze skin the ultraviolence of the crowd
Sometimes it springs, sometimes it --
Sometimes it commits me as if I were its perfect crime
But nothing turns me as inverted as your asymmetry does

I have the right to remain silent

I like the words that lie the most
I like them when they bleed
In your lips
In my mouth

I have the right remain silent

What moves a man to move a man to move
What makes a man to make a man to make
Him kiss him ssik him -
Name it before it names you

I have the right to remain silent

I throw the dice behind your back, you stab me and I stumble
I try again, but you already know, the number of your eyes
I count two then look ahead, love is not love that alters in front of the others’ eyes
I throw the dice a third, I am alive and you are dead

You have the right to remain silent

P.S. It was never the heel

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