Kit Kelen #663 - Cordoba 25.X.17

663

Córdoba

25.X.17

you may yet come to turn

through these eyes in the book

of course there's the chance no one will read

I'm the eyes wide

I love to find where wandering brings

keep loose – a pleasure not knowing

better still – be lost

then let the map appear at my feet

because I merely nosed a way

I found a way to read

there are no monuments here know me

but mutts poke out on balconies

sniff streets

so many dogs have this view of below

the youngsters are kissing as they go

tight in skins together

thief thick they are

and honest in poverty

some days walk just as far as a poem

then so I sit where the street will pass

Plaza de las Tendillas, 7.23 pm, 24°

the oranges in the square, big and green

the bomberos park in the street that runs through

lights on, motors running

they ease out, embrace

and chew the fat

drive on still chatting

nothing to see here

the rested knee goes on – a reconquest!

how could they be so crazy for churches

for bells, for so long

a fountain will always remind me to drink

acanthus makes marble

let all of my age come grey for their charm

so many stand their quizzical corners

eyes drill into screens

taxi sighs by

I come to this town as an un-familiar

by magic to any other age

speaking of which

friends and I ask you – this everywhere Jesus

as white as the pigeons have polished – all grey

how many times can you crucify God?

and still the bad penny turns up

low life we're talking

some speak up to windows

or down to pram travellers

also the dogled

then the respectable

the whistling is opera

I don't know this place at all

some days I walk just as far as a poem

I'm the eyes wide

then let the map appear at my feet

better still – be lost

keep loose the pleasure of not knowing

I love to find what wondering brings

I'm the eyes wide

and the eyes in the book

you may come to turn through yet

let all my ruins be Roman

let my dancing thoughts be Greek