head is home to spirit
half a summer's day
trying to cool it
remembrance of the other half
washed away with beer
you call that Andalusian housekeeping
Andalusia, land of sun & bitterness!
your sons scrub dust & sand off mothers’ feet by day
& when night comes
squat curbside by the butchershop
cursing every stranger
that stands between them & their meat
mother Andalusia, marijuana chokes your alleyways
the night your sons gather to shoot the shit
for them there's no relief till comes
the day of the goring of the bull
oh naked, joyous Andalusia!
young city woman plays at being goddess of the seashore
she's made a pact with the wind to dance in her hair
& when the waves lap at her thighs
drops the last bit of cloth
to dip her cunt into the sea
& just like that
cocks stiffen & souls revive
even those who thought
they had no life left in them
oh hidden, secret Andalusia!
your Germans take after the bats in Nerja's caves
they got no taste for daylight
is that the shadow he's casting
or demons fast on his heels?
that first week's tan won't last for long
German's got a shaky hold on spirit
like a cigarette slipping through
the fingers of the man that's nodding off
oh Andalusia, shuttered in your whitewashed homes
die men who never knew you
Andalusia, your wells may lack for water but they do not lack for blood!
the old singer of flamenco he puts down his guitar
holds out a back-hand
cracked & dry as riverbed
his pride rests in his veins
“see these knuckles streaked with blue?
that's what this land once looked like”
oh Andalusia, your birds deaf to cries for rain!
this one goes coasting on a cloud
then cuts the cloud mid-air
& drifts out over sea
but he's no ordinary bird
his wings flap to an older tune
he knows the score
he took part in creation
& still remembers what it is to praise
hail Ogun!
hail Anat!
hail Shango!
here's to the wild ones!
the gods who have water at home
but do their washing up with blood
Andalusia with your sands as hot as coals!
wandering merchant's feet are used to it
he knows these beaches better than his homeland
& with eyes untroubled by the glare
sees all the riches hid
beneath these old, old stones
…if only hands could lift them
for now this will do:
sitting under palm tree shade
& sucking sardine flesh right off the spine