Lighthouse Avenue to Mercury Fountain

Today, I wiggled under a Calder.

Apple, pear, plum, and cherry,

the diamond

of stolen bases in the orchard.

The gale on the ferry,

a force from a particle experiment

and it began to spin

ever after, I read the scoop of a new flavour,

empower mint

melting down when it rains

protesting some other siege.

You are stepping on poetry!

Están entrando en la poesía!

Burning Socrate,

reappeared

on  Lighthouse Avenue, a fair idea

jammed to the tunnel.

Just a signal sidebar,

who the hell studies Pharology?

Then the beams warned of Montjuic,

an illumination

bought at auction

on the wing of the lark.

A little secret leftover from the grove

from that time we begged,

"weaving spiders come not here".

All of them have shields and helmets,

Cush to Put

then on to Barcelona,

brave enough to speak

out past the point,

I hear there’s another in Cordoba?

Oigo hay otro en Córdoba?

You come upon it suddenly,

one step and its glory is over you.

four wings

on garden green

and a Mercury Fountain

extracted from cinnabar,

untouchable behind the glass,

when all I want is to take a bath.