A. E. Stallings

Parmenion

issue 20 June 2015

Athens

The air-raid siren howls
Over the quiet, the un-rioting city.
It’s just a drill.
But the unearthly vowels
Ululate the air, a thrill



While for a moment everybody stops
What they were about to do
On the broken street, or in the slow shops,
Or looks up for an answer
Into the contrailled palimpsest of blue.



Always we forget. It’s once a year
Just as lush September’s getting sober
Ambushed by October.

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