Two Poems by Christina Strigas
Decades of Art
I can lie like a jazz singer
on a sultry bed,
in a torrid nightclub.
It's the 20’s, sliding inside humid
I am a little girl, wonderfully sacred
and scared of consequences.
Nothing can be wrapped up as perfectly
as pink bodies, naked in the daylight
wet and sweltering on wrinkled sheets.
Whispering red sweet secrets, like candy
on sky blue Sunday mornings.
I can lay on the grass after a music festival
free from law, handcuffs,
rules. It’s the 70’s
we made it
out alive. We saw Jim, Jimmy,
Janet at the hotel. Patti was doing
a poetry reading in NYC.
We were the best observers
the weakest artists.
No year, and nothing to do but straddle the centuries.
I slept under crumbled bridges,
car lights reflecting pothole prisms,
When I lost my soul to the
gods of: drugs
Our glowing graffiti—illegal,
a tower of glossy tabloids—
Past inflated—dated bottles
majestic little lanterns
You filled in a spotlight for me,
In neon bars I slaved in,
emptied, lonely rebel—
just another female poet, a fitted slave,
I became your Metaxa maid.
No more niceties.
As the antihero you were made to be:
under a highway bridge
stuffed inside a glass pillow, evoking
A revelation I named Vacant Lot.
Christina Strigas is a trilingual poet, raised by Greek immigrants, and has written three poetry books. Her latest, Love & Vodka, has been featured by CBC Books in, “Your Ultimate Canadian Poetry List: 68 Poetry Collections Recommended by You.”
She is currently working on her fourth upcoming poetry book, Love & Metaxa.
In her spare time, Christina enjoys foreign cinema, reading the classics, and cooking traditional Greek recipes that have been handed down from her grandmother.