Thursday, October 26, 2017

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

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