Andalusian
My Andalusian
Spanish Horse Boy
That Europe wants cast from places too wet and damp
that actual humans can't inhabit
I can teach you how to be more human
But your grass grains kept my Elders alive
And they covered for you when they ran into the night with their diamonds.
Your eyes are such dark pearls
Your mouth is as dark pink as a berry-freshly picked
Your face is gold shone blown from the air.
My Andalusian
Horse Spanish Boy
My Pygmalion ways
would cause catastrophe: for you are pure art.
Yes, that I would live in your treehouses
Yes, that I would play guitar with one string
And learn all your dances
and leave my best dresses behind.
But Roma, Roma, Roma!
You have no home state, no country to make demands from
And they are not impressed with flamenco music
or the special way your women wash their hair with flowers.
Europe pretends to be strong against every gypsy who has broken horses.
I would walk down that road with you
I would walk right in the middle
to be with my Spanish Boy Horse
to show him we are all galaxies and roads are paved with pastness.
I would walk down that main road for you.
But you have no diamond for me.
Still, I would love you from afar
My Andalusian
Spanish Boy.
poem by Eli Spivakovsky
Added by Poetry Lover
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