LA CONCHA

The bank robber is a gentleman

raising a towel for his love to dress.

I wake some way down seashell beach

while Rick still snores behind me.

 

Bags rolled tight, we enter a bar,

slump on stools in a line, all four

staring at our reflections in the long

mirror behind the steel counter.

 

Jesus spreads arms wide over the bay

and we are down to out last pesetas

in this city of bombs and needles,

nervous police and general madness

 

but we possess a library of maxims:

distillations of road experience.

Reassure ourselves continuously

that something always turns up.

 

Hobo Camp Review. Issue 37. April 2020.