Kurie Khadzidi

By Paul Campanis

The lamb of Abraham
in the square of
Martin Luther King.
The smoke rises
from the black box
that purifies the meat
A Greek priest blesses
B.U. with the incense.

Under two mushrooms,
feet splayed, loving all
hugging me
Kurie Khadzidi blows
the lamb of Abraham
toward the gate of the
chapel, past the statue
of Martin Luther King. Across
the river the pleasured pyramid
of Hyatt Cheops mutely remembers
its own ancestors; it munches the smoke.


He sold souvlaki in front of the statue of Martin Luther King when I was
protesting against racism in front of the university that was firing me. He
looked like a greek priest. Stood under two umbrellas. A jovial and hard
working sort and past the Marsh chapel just behind the statue stood this
large hotel across the Charles which i imagined to be a pyramid. I don't
know what the lamb of Abraham means. I don't know why I repeat it twice. I
wrote in 1978 or so and I was not how I am now. But the religious imagery
is certainly there and I am a religious sort.