Cataluna's Song

Catalonia personified�in a buried rhymes sonnet, I guess. About time I posted something here again, I figured. Eh.

 

 

She forgets

what excess means, gorges herself

on sleepless nights and pills from some back-alley dealer,

tunes her bruised guitar and sings of endless light in Barcelona—

where the boys are bold and the women rule the art of flamenco

and paella. It's there, she says, where passion and virtue

are entwined and familiar: a black cat's fur

on a white leather couch.

 

Sing of the road and watch the stars revolve, she'll always say—

for this night is tattooed upon all our fingertips: green eyes and red earth

a marriage of perfection and fluid hips, of temptation being a shrine

to anoint with fevered lips.

 

Bring an ocean with you, and know this world

forgets while she tries to sleep.

 

Reviews

[Alicante lullaby]

seriously...J...i'm grrr at me for not reading you before...lovely...lovely,sad..

[MagiCrystal]

Barcelona and Flamenco is my origin.. damn.. can we dance? love it

[J.P. Bristow]

...................damn you can write. Intense and almost brutal in imagery. Wonderful.

[Emily B]

oh, to be the shining spirit that would inspire words like these . . .