Adaptation

I need a muse to help me start writing poetry again.

A naked one.

I was thinking of how I could adapt Cavafi’s Απολείπειν ο Θεός Αντώνιον into my own life.

Instead of the glorious Alexandria it would be one of those sun-baked dusty Mexican hell-hole towns you see in Westerns.

And instead of a troupe playing beautiful music it would be one of those annoying one-man band people, banging the drums and blowing the same five off-key notes on the trumpet

4 thoughts on “Adaptation

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