"The Brazen Plagiarist," by Kiki Dimoula; translated by Cecile Inglessis Margellos and Rika Lesser

Hail Never 127

BREAKING INTO AN ILLUSION

And somewhere in the middle of the night

an all-night drugstore
shimmered.

Sir, give me a sleeping pill

so the desert out there gets some sleep.

And while the pharmacist

unfolded from his drowsiness, I admired
the equality of ailments on the shelves,
incurable and curable, all
in brightly colored, cheerful little boxes.

And suddenly I recognized you. In isolation.

Up there; where only fear’s eye could catch you.
Charonography: a poison bottle’s label.

Unrecognizable your lethal figure stripped bare.

Your hands formed a threat’s crossed X
on that innocent spot
where your neck once nonchalantly dreamed.

Sir, I screamed,
while I shook the ailments on the shelves,
what horrid mistakes are these,
how can you administer to the dead
additional doses of poison with no new

Copyright © 2012 by Yale University

 "The Brazen Plagiarist," by Kiki Dimoula; translated by Cecile Inglessis Margellos and Rika Lesser

Hail Never 129

prescription and no divine will? How dare you,

just to advertise drastic Charonic products,
rip the bones out of figures we’ve struggled hard
to keep drastically whole
in vials of sealed illusion?
Return the original to me immediately.

I understand, the pharmacist said, but

no error will be acknowledged
after leaving the counter.

Copyright © 2012 by Yale University