Tuesday, October 28, 2008

He's Gone to Barcelona [poetry]

He says he's gone to Barcelona:
Took his brother along his traveling persona.
I find it cute that he took his 15 year old brother
So they could spend time with one another.
I would like to meet this brother of his
Reads Sartre at 15, that's quite a whiz!

He says they walk a lot in Barcelona:
He did a lot of that even in Poona;
Promenading around like a flaneur,
One that Baudelaire would glorify in myrrh,
Taking his comrade swinging around town,
Looking at Barcelona, together as they walk down...

I have never tasted the Spanish dust,
But I imagine him ambling in wanderlust,
Searching for alleys of discoveries,
Of Horchatas made by Spanish fairies;
His desire to see and unearth more
Feeding his nomad-thirst to explore.

I see gold hair against Mediterranean architecture,
An artistic mind making sense of modernist structure,
Fair skin, pale, surrounded by crepuscular Iberian men
Who swirl in his eyes, curdling his vertiginous blood when,
He stops and thinks all of a sudden:
"Will I meet my lover in London?"

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