Four Poems by Kostas Anagnopoulos

by: Kostas Anagnopoulos

These poems by Kostas Anagnopoulos open us to our capricious impermanence, the way it’s always one thing after another: perception, dream, thought, word, image, realization — all cascading into the void. His poetry is an attempt to unify our discrete moment to moment experience into a narrative of self: “I don’t want to live in sections,” because “This can’t be how we are.” But Anagnopoulos knows, as we all do, “Your reflection is better off without you.”

 

Kostas4

 

AS YOU CAN SEE

It’s a black hole of a night
The stars appear
To have landed in the dirt
Or on the rooftops of buildings along the BQE
I’m glad to be finally thinking in words
Now I can write to you
Night is up front and out back
No more stars
Any minute morning will be here
Things ending just when they were beginning
Cold air makes nose run
I write what I see
The floating hospital off the N train
My dream was about selling and losing
I couldn’t keep my appointments
Still dreaming
What are these attachments?
I’m obligated to use them
I return to thinking in pictures
Wearing my best hat
I have a head with clam shells
Where my ears should be
I try to listen
I get up and smell the front room
Dmitry has no sense of smell

 

DISAPPOINTMENTS (ALL SIZES)

Even if they make your eyes water
Move along
Like the cop says
There’ll be more tomorrow
Along with the eclipse and likelihood
Of your tent collapsing while you’re sleeping in it
But don’t give up on camping
Forgiveness is one way to move along
Forgive the wind and rain
Don’t let that brown fluid surround you
Talk back to your dreams
Where clarity happened once
Seeped into you
Not only on weekdays
The professionals come out with their magical advice
Your attention please
Whether you are coming or going, remember the password
Got to get to those dandelions before they blow away
You’ve been looking up a lot
Blocking out the bottom
Where everything seems to take place
Nothing is falling from the sky
Blue and white are piling up
According to this book you’re no gentleman
Not your “natural self”
You can balance a casserole on your stomach
That’s your table for now

 

OLD POEM

Algorithm fired you into the universe
Moon matched up with a hole in the ground
Problems with your image
Plus heart and money problems
You stumble into the crumbling theatre
Mind your head when entering
The equinox came and went
You whirled for a while
You couldn’t get around the cones
Alternate frames
Where you can capture the mind
For a split second
Its toys
Then a blank wall
Dove white sky
Watch your step, wherever you go
What else is there to do?
Beauty lives down there in the dirt
Skyscraper deep
Absence is beautiful
No absence (the idea) is stupid
Look at the legs

Waiting for a cab
Take it for the last time
Worry less
Those old answering machines
Did you care what they said?

They tore a whole theatre apart from its cornices
Is that what you wanted?
Theatre equals universe?
Not to mention the big word
Kept under tarp
My inner life is on my T-shirt
It’s a placeholder
You don’t need to read it
Not so long ago this place was magic
Anderson Theatre, the old Yiddish programs

That dog is killing that tree
Try to reason with him
A handshake and a signature

Speak up
Hose down the base of the tree
But what moron put masking tape on the bark
They couldn’t wait to find a pole
An infant can’t feed itself
Tree dies alone too
Nowhere is someplace

You don’t want mirrors ruining your life
See nothing notable
Contracts are enough to push anyone to suicide
Sure, it’s a nice day, but
Your reflection is better off without you
Cut here

East River
Better to float than balance on landfill

 

WE NEVER CLOSE

Electrical cord swinging
Hanging outside my window
It’s nuanced
Don’t move
Wrinkled white curtain touching the floor
Blue hubbard squash on crazed platter
Antennae facing northwest
A riding blanket draped over the sofa
Floor lamp with adjustable arm
Its shade illuminated by the sun
A sea grass rug snagged
Bowl of pine needles next to the sofa
On a stool from the Queen’s Democratic Club
Dove gray chest with Molly’s things in it
It’s heavy
A child’s rocking chair
Clouds going south, leaves shaking
Pile of frames on top of a platter on top of a suitcase
Bowl of stones
Two armless chairs and two armchairs
The cat sits on the keyboard
More cords
More shells
Erika brought this one from Georgia
Crack in the plaster

 

Kostas Anagnopoulos is the founder and editor of Insurance Editions. He has published four chapbooks. Night Loop, his latest chapbook is forthcoming in late spring. His full-length book, Moving Blanket, was published in 2010 by Ugly Duckling Presse. He lives and works in Queens, NY.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *