Catching a charter flight from Manchester,
the family eases through security
but I am detained – there are traces
of explosive in my backpack: poems
on the hard drive? The scanner is at fault.
At Nikos Kazantzakis Heraklion –
the only airport named for a writer –
one of our cases arrives broken
on the single baggage carousel
and one of the gent’s toilets has backed up
but ‘Zorba’s Dance’ is playing somewhere,
the sea beyond the runways could be almost
‘wine-dark’
POPPIES
APPLES AT ERDDIG: A GLIMPSE OF AVALON
ORGANISED CRIMES
APPLES AT ERDDIG: A GLIMPSE OF AVALON
OCTOBER 4TH