Glimpses of Athens

People crowd the edges of the Acropolis

sentinel tourists of the Parthenon.

I sip iced mountain tea on a rooftop cafe 

debating climbing up the marble outcropping

in slippy sandals again this year. 

The Museumo d' Acropoli

is air-conditioned and

the reading room asks nothing of me.

Where's your ticket? asks a docent.

Um, I had one I swear, checking pockets.

I lose it every year.

Outside I watch a dig through the glass floor 

and inexplicably

buy a crown of golden laurel leaves for €4,

passing on sweetened dried banana chips at €1.50

no, thank you. Ohee, efharisto, in Greek

with an awful American accent.

So much stuff

so many people

uncomfortable taxi rides

"I show you Olympic stadium," again this year,

the coast, Syntagma Square, 

my Ohee NO doesn't always work here.

Nor my persistent STOCK-SEN-A-THO-HEE-O

HOTEL, or at-the-hotel. Please.

Please. Para-ka-lo.

That doesn't work either.

Me and Lawrence at the Acropolis Museum in Athens

The peace of Alonissos vanishes 

into mist in Athens.

Uber back to the hotel

away from Lawrence,

he's why I come here.

Now I have to catch a

flight in the morning.

I'm ready to go.

Until next year, Lawrence.