Generation 27
Lorca’s blood wedding
or so the whisper is,
packed full of vaginas bleeding
into lemon-tree- soil,
a foil for the mere conjugations
of eternity. 

The toil, toil, toil
tilling the soil, soil, soil
of life in wgat was Islamic     Andalus.

Priests chant the rosary
like it was El Maleh Rachamim,
or the Mourner’s Kaddish
(which it probably was, if the priest
was a Converso, an ex-Jew, who changed his religion
to save his life or, maybe, the lives of his children).

The Muslim-Converts, as usual, prayed louder
than we Spaniards did, they never coughed,
but touched the head-covering they did not wear.
What they did on Fridays was only the business
Of the Inquisition.

Many Moriscos fled to Morocco, Lebanon
to the centres of the Islamic world: Damascus, Baghdad.
Now nobody wants anything
to do with these ‘abusers, terrorists,
killers of children and women-folk’.

However, nearly 450 years after the surrender on January 2, 1492,
of the Emirate of Granada to the Christian Castillian army,
Franco’s Moroccan units commit numerous atrocities
in many Spanish cities, including Toledo,
murdering men, raping women and torturing children.

So, helping to defeat the Spanish Socialist Republic,
allying Spain with Italian Fascists and German Nazis.
Well, history is peculiar, I just like a drink now and again:
Wine, brandy, what you will.

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