10-25-2014, 06:14 AM
I Dream of Barcelona
Sliding glass reveals leaden skies and shifting Alabama dunes;
I breathe the cold and manufactured air of dead motels
and dream of Barcelona.
High-stepping like a crippled horse, you come up
through the mounds of impure sand, glistening
with sweat and sunscreen. I draw the mildewed curtains
and dream of Barcelona.
Tan-lined, stoned and sleepy, you lie
in half-light from the louvered transom. Gulls cry above
the talk-show murmurs, and through the wall, a trailer poet
recites a dull lament. I crush my pills, pour your wine
and dream of Barcelona.
A ravaged coast inside force-five winds;
this fleeting eye, a temporary truce allowed by distance
from familiar storms. I fall beside you
and dream of Barcelona.
Untied, we drift away in separate boats, on white seas.
Before sleep, I kiss your uncertain smile
and dream of Barcelona.
Sliding glass reveals leaden skies and shifting Alabama dunes;
I breathe the cold and manufactured air of dead motels
and dream of Barcelona.
High-stepping like a crippled horse, you come up
through the mounds of impure sand, glistening
with sweat and sunscreen. I draw the mildewed curtains
and dream of Barcelona.
Tan-lined, stoned and sleepy, you lie
in half-light from the louvered transom. Gulls cry above
the talk-show murmurs, and through the wall, a trailer poet
recites a dull lament. I crush my pills, pour your wine
and dream of Barcelona.
A ravaged coast inside force-five winds;
this fleeting eye, a temporary truce allowed by distance
from familiar storms. I fall beside you
and dream of Barcelona.
Untied, we drift away in separate boats, on white seas.
Before sleep, I kiss your uncertain smile
and dream of Barcelona.