Homer's (the blind man's) poetry as seen by the waiter

"Iliad XII"
 

  black

Carmel was busy like always.

The black tar-topped roads

were all-day-long slaves

to the heavy traffic.

They lay there being used

kicked, rolled and walked over,

spit and drooled on by the visitors

who looky-looky were looking for the bargain

of which there were none.

Only at night the streets got to breathe

the cool Pacific Ocean's air,

sights of relief eased their tension

as they lay there and rested

for more torture to come.

Waiting to be raped again.

                 "Wake up! Wake up! Aphrodite.            

()-:

  ...the lap-top...