You were Spain


You were Spain
You were the switch back curves
From the mountain to the sea
Hairpins holding back the olive groves

You were Spain
And we flew through you
Noise some witches
Riding our motorbikes
Riding our broomstick Vespas
Like virgins - Knees pressed firmly to hold our place

You were Spain
And your words made sense
Ananas y Naranjas
Fruits made real by closeness to their roots
And your villages
Clung to the mountain by their high mountain names
Binaraitx, Andratx, Fornalutx
Or lapped low and lovely to the sea of Soller - Puerto de Soller

You were Spain
And we rode the San Franciscan tram
Along the beachfront - And everyone smoked
The black tabac
The cheap filterless Fundadors
More foul than French
Burning our nostrils with their gunpowder stench

And someone young - Played guitar
And someone young clapped
And someone young clapped
And someone young clapped
And we knew that this was perfect
And we knew that every other flamenco
Would be spoiled forever
We knew that every other flamenco would always be somehow wrong
Painted on velvet

Y sonriĆ³
Todos sonriĆ³ salvajemente
And we smiled
We all smiled wildly - And we saw their
Tears streaming down cheeks that were clenched with joy
And we smiled at their simple sentimentality

And then we tasted the surprising salt on our own lips
And we smiled again in our community
And we
Were Spain