Tsipras poses while Greece burns, finds narcissisim increasingly difficult to hide as country spirals downwards


To misquote Shakespeare…                     

All of Greece is a stage,
And all the men and women merely spectators
To the exits and the entrances
Of the one man who in the Maximos Mansion plays many parts,
His acts being seven stages. At first the idealist,
Fighting for justice and his milk bottle as an infant;
And then the whining university party hack,  listening to his father’s
back room deals, plotting how to pull strings
to win government contracts from the military junta
and smear and kill competitors and rig elections.
And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then, after ten year studies, a civil engineer
Full of strange plans for buildings in Athens,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
On the fake duels staged on TV. And then the party leader
The George Soros funded beast who will challenge the Troika,
With eyes severe and frown,
Determined to stop the bailout;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the proud and slick prime minister,
Administering the very same bailout he promised not,
Posing for photographs in a shiny suit;
His serious expression captured fleetingly in one picture
to reassure desperate Greeks he is capable
Turning in the next picture towards childish humour
Bearing wolfish fangs. Last picture of all,
That ends this strange series of photos,
Is an arrogant chin jutting pose, a cross between Hitler,
Napoleon and Pol Pot, thumbing his nose at everyone.


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