Joseph Salvatore Aversano

                                                  IN VAROSHA NO ONE PARTIES*



           A turntable needle skips,
                                                  and wave comes after wave after

the wave we've been waiting for
                                                  the very next beat

                                   backfilled
                  in memory
        a pool    

*The Cypriot resort town Varosha (Βαρώσια) was abandoned during the Turkish invasion in 1974, and has remained uninhabited ever since.

SIBERIAN SOLAR BOAT

with mostly souls on board. and two horned gods. while another, a colossus, comes storming in flashes now and then across the barrel vaulted sky. yet it must have been the trick of one of the many icy lakes. the sheen of its wavelets cast onto the cloud cover. but one of the souls now is helping with the oar.

all along our trajectory earth's arc

WHITE IN 1D

It appears, however, that the destruction of icons wasn't systematic. One would have stopped, in any case, at the raised and tesseral palm of St. Demetrios—regardless of whether he was plastered over for protection, or one had plastered over eyes.

a bird
in the clerestory
light

POMPEII


i.—ii. cubiculum indicum et cubiculum violāceum

from the cochineal
or orchil lichen;

but for the Tyrian,
from the sea snail,

the wine-dark
of the sea



iii. cubiculum caeruleum

to cool down Vesuvius, the shore; a mythology with god swept breezes; steam from the vents, and with the faintest of clouds painted on one wall, caught on one peak. the ground is covered with the grape and acanthus. and as the light from the compluvium half fills the pool, its projection, rippling, fans across sleep.



iv. cubiculum viride

in a grove
silent as the statue
of a god



v. cubiculum flāvum

the sunlight on Saturn's brighter than on Earth: its principal source being the glint off Helios' shield. but not as dim as full moonlight, and as the children of Helios, we shine, draining night.



vi.—vii. cubiculum aureum et cubiculum rubrum

one spectrum end a sunset




Joseph Salvatore Aversano is a native New Yorker based in Ankara, Turkey. His poetry has won several awards; and one of his haibun will appear in the forthcoming Red Moon Press anthology Galaxy of Dust. His more recent work has been published in CHO, A Hundred Gourds, Mariposa, Modern Haiku, NOON, The Other Bunny, and Ping-Pong.
 
 
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