poems from greece

by Tessa Tapscott

For some weeks now, you’ve suspected that she was growing ever more bored with being frustrated with you.

You texted her seven times asking if she would come over today, but while you drafted the eighth message, she replied, “Not today, sorry, but I’ll be round tomorrow by 3.”

A disappointing response. No, “I’m busy, cuntface.” Or, “Stop texting me, you psycho.” You long for the fires of old.

Still, she doesn’t seem to have any intention of breaking up with you. You don’t think you would want to break up either, of course. And, shouldn’t you love some who loves you despites being what many (therapists) might characterize as clingy, manic depressive, a “borderline narcissist”. Is she the clingy, depressive narcissist for being with you? You debate with yourself one morning as she lays asleep next to you.

Leaning over her tranquil face, you hock a massive spit glob into her eye to wake her up. She jolts up, but you hold her down. She turns her head to the side to wipe the saliva off her face. You press your forehead and nose into hers and open your eyes as wide as possible.

“Love?” you ask. “Love” she sighs.



The cat had adopted her as its owner, in the way that cats do. The young woman was an easy target, lonely and bored, the cat had no problems earning her trust. After hanging about in her backyard for only a day or two, the cat had convinced the young woman to put out cans of tuna. Within a week, the cat had finagled its way into the woman’s home. The cat allowed her to stroke its back and even, its belly. The young woman allowed the cat on to her bed and even, her pillow.

Friends might be too strong a word to describe what they had, but this suited the cat’s purposes quite well. For one day, while the young woman was out, the cat lay down on her pillow and calmly passed away, slightly defecating on his way.

When the young woman returned and discovered the cat, she set down her shopping (which contained a brand new litter box) in stoic silence. Borrowing a shovel from her neighbour, she dug a small grave from her short-term companion and lowered the cat’s body into the ground.

After covering it with dirt and patting down the soil, the young woman took shower and decided to use the litter box to store singular sock until she found their match.



Dear Nathan,


On the first day I arrived here I immediately went to the beach for a swim. It was lovely and the water is clear, but I stepped on a sea urchin! When I lifted my foot off its small body, I realized I had broken and bent many of its spines.

I swam awkwardly back to the beach and hopped to my towel. Oh Nathan, I must have looked a state. There were a few spines still stuck in my foot. I had unintentionally stolen them.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for I had done to the sea urchin. When I got home, I did some research online, though, and as it turns out, they are designed to have their spine broken and ripped out, they can regrow them infinitely.

So, I guess I will keep my souvenirs. They will make lovely earrings.

Warm wishes from Greece,