Sightseer

Unna servesser gronder perfer vore. Oona
sarvaysar grandy pour farv hi, hola, una
cerveza grande por favor, this big, a swan's neck
stretched, entender? Y una paella de mariscos or
something, the squid in a skillet like they have. He
points, he nods, he scurries, he licks
his lips cracked with latewinter sun mirrored off
a rusting beach and feels the chair back crease
a spine curved by Gaudi, though the couple photos
came back clouds.

Habla english? I slip town
for one minute and what happens, the sky cracks
open and splits my wife's lips like Moses. No, no
es where you from? Le ciel, not that squawking guano sky,
it's le metaphor, l'enfer, c'est les autres, like that, an attic hatch,
first beer then blood. I've only got le goddamn weekend
before I brave the guano, and all that stuff drained
from her drained straight from my young son's old face
when he played the man and made the call and found
more paper towels. He drains the glass. That Picasso
place I guess didn't close yet.

April 5, 2009