Helen Mitsios
By Helen Mitsios
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Culture POEM: Vilna Fairytale
Over rooftops and forests, rivers, domes and the belfries of Vilna, the magic carpet in my mind flies to a small maze of buildings where the ghettos used to be. Near the river flats, and that green bridge Milosz writes about in a poem — the bridge where my mother was almost arrested for being…
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The Schmooze POEM: ‘Prague by Night’
Patchouli oil and the scent of your travel hair, our smaller days middle-aged and measured by hotel soaps that come in gold foil wrappers like they’re something special. You say one European city is like another. Scientists say somewhere in space exist colors we’ve never seen. When we make love in the hotel room in…
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