*** Random Poetry Anyone? ***
Sunday
 
Spanish Nights

Tonight the cobblestones are slick
With spilled, sticky brew, sloshed
From the bottles and cups of revelers

Stumbling from one door to the next,
Tobacco and sweat emanating from
Each dazed face, deaf from the pounding

Techno and blind from the flashing
Lights and writhing shadows
That wrap around the darkest corners.

I love this place, the humid air rich
With foreign vowels and the lilting laughter
Of my friends, flirting with men

Whose language they barely speak. We wash
In and out of each bar and club like seaweed
Floating with the tide, drink specials

Here and the best DJs there, all enticing to our
Hungry American appetites—it can never
Be enough for us to devour.

All too soon we’re stumbling with the rest,
Trying to remember down which alley
We’re staying and which cathedral looms

Over our rooms. Just another Spanish night
Of living and forgetting the places that we call
Home, in favor of one that feels more like it.

      ( 11/14/2004 01:15:00 PM ) Lisa#



Comments:
<$BlogCommentBody$>
(2) comments <$BlogCommentDeleteIcon$>
Post a Comment



Poetry is cool. So are short stories. Care to join in on the rantings? Email me at lmalo7fc@mwc.edu

what the hell is this?:
Welcome to Random Poetry, a page for amature poets to post their work for review by other amature poets. It doesn't matter what type, genre, etc. it is, as long as you feel like calling it poetry feel free to post it, and to comment on other's poetry. We can all learn from each other.

links:
Smell the Storm Stirring

archives:



All poems are the property of their original authors, and may not be reproduced without permission.



Powered by Blogger