Plaza de Espaňa
The tired afternoon falls
on a rhythm of palm trees
clad in spring
human, a scattered voice.
Above, the moon rounds
its silver & enamoured
spins its gratitude
– starry light swerves
between the coupling of harnesses –
through gothic cypress
the toll of bells.
Rivers of joy full of the very thing
played only by this Stradivarius of beings
trampoline that launches us from the pole
of artifice to pristine contact
with the virgin, packed bustle
of naked Africa… Protocol
of baskets & tables, bloodclots, deceit,
yucca & the solemn fraternity in the act
of being emptied and filled in between laughter
drawing coins without currency,
rain of ancient sun on their backs.
Lean out – by the skin of the day –
into that open custom of exchange,
a life running among skirts.
About this poem
This poem, representing Equatorial Guinea, is part of The Written World – our collaboration with BBC radio to broadcast a poem from every single nation competing in London 2012.