English, Poetry

Memo from Madrid

The sky a true cliché —
the easy open door—
the swimming pool in lunch breaks—
the dinners shared with neighbours.

This is her one true love. 
No sea. Tiled plazas. People. Heat.
“To trace her life back to its adolescent source.”
Your spare room’s not a mute defeat.

(inspired by John Koethe)

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