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
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.
That doesn't work either.
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.