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North American Dreaming: Spaniard's Eye

William Burkholder's poem paints a grim picture of violence and poverty.

Balancing a switchblade on a Spaniard's eye,
wooden floor, bar stools, hookers outside,
two bucks a pop,
In Barcelona heat,
as the children pick your pockets
and lay flowers at your feet.
Federalie ratcheting of machine gun bolts,
stark white building,
stone.
Grenades going off in the U.S.O...

One entry no exit,
none came out,
wood floors,
wood walls,
I picture splinters,
blood stained and stuck in the door.
Stop lights ignored, balls out, and racing past white gorilla name sake of
Spanish children crying, stealing, starving and screwing
to make a day's plate of food,
while on the hill the monastery stares,
lonesome, confined, and misunderstood.
Balancing a switchblade on a Spaniards eye.

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Do visit Troubadour21 magazine which Bill co-edits www.troubadour21.com

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