Monday, March 2, 2009

andalusia

after Lorca


Don't bring oranges.

Bring feathers from
an iron palace.

Where bones of blood
stagger under a full moon,
forget your hunger.

Fetch straw from
the lung of your hollow purse,
where stones ring like bells.

Set out on your
broken horse
with its wings of cold fire,
and your mouth
seeking
cool green fruit.

Let there be no mention
of your orange
assassins.

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