“Meinkumph eyes”

by Christos Polydorou

His stove. His inability to wait, his turn.
His unpleasant impatience. His arrogance.
I once met the most reprehensible man in the world.
I called him a narcissist, a monster, a selfish pig,
I called him cruel, and mean, and cold, and distant,
and more possessive, than all the possessive pronouns.
Ok, not all of them. Just the third person male.
Extraordinary and remarkable to look at, but so ignorant,
clueless,

uneducated,

unsophisticated,

callous,

and yet

control

hitlers –

with his

Meinkumph eyes.

You are not blond, mein herr. Your
eyes are not that blue which is almost white.
Your skin does not turn tomato red in the sun, mein herr.
You will never have someone six foot tall, and who looks like
Chris Hemworth, and who is richer than Mark Zuckerberg
take you out, because you are no longer twenty one, mein herr.

The skies do not reflect in your eyes,
to see themselves, and fall in love with themselves,
as they fall in love with you,
mein herr.

 

Quote in the title is from Sylvia Plath’s epic poem, Daddy. I am inspired by her work, and her dynamism, and her forthrightness, and lack of laziness, but most of all, her audacity.

For Sylvia Plath.

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