The More I Drink, The More I Steal
for Alisa, Robyn, & Merce
I. Train to Seville
Ace writes on the subway
his poems exactly
—this—
long
ours is a 5 & a half hour train
keep going keep going keep going
here comes the coffee truck
solar panels like flowers
behind a field of olive trees
& logs
what makes a country civilized?
a Catalan independence flag far from home
war, always the little men
who hate to be laughed at
his professor said about Gaudí:
either a genius or a madman
hanging chains that upside down
are buildings that don’t fall down
as so often with genius
obvious when you know how it’s done
    Byron’s Don Juan was born in Seville
    I was born in South Dakota
    some of my life seems glamorous
    & some just happened
    I’m not really from anywhere
    a war took care of that
sandstone, scrub, almost Texan
farther from the Mediterranean
“I have more desire than is safe”
you must know everything
history, baseball, the names of things
that plant that bird that comma
sand whiter by the mile
loop of highway: mostly trucks
no one’s looked at my tiquet
just past the factory, a Gothic church
here we are in Tarragona
here we are in Zaragoza
what happens on a train?
what do I want to happen to me?
and to Europe? & the world?
a day without disasters
a man looks at his watch, glances down the track
any year any place
I’ve outlived Ted, Beau, & 9 presidents
green again, red flowers in the fields
if you squint
could I be a woman alone?
I am I always am & my life is / isn’t
important (even to me)
coffee 2 euros. bread 2 euros.
she is forever whispering a song
dozens of thin stately windcatchers
my purpose is to sail beyond the sunset
no farm animals
Spain will get her freedom & you will still break stone
I used to travel to get away from myself
now I travel toward
turbines: that’s what they are
step 1 towards knowing everything
croft       valetudinarian     love
what is the meaning what is the cost
do turbines ever wear out?
not at this rate!
yikes they are much bigger closer!
mustard field
plow’n’pile: more rocks always
ponder’n’pen: more lines today
jungle prairie forest sea
how much can lands vary?
round building with round bulb top
have I seen my first Moorish element?
tree puffs reflect cloud meringues
reflect sheep reflect rock mounds
a low brick barn, ruined now
cheese, olives, pumpkin danish
red poppies ever more distinct
everyone is an exception
for Alisa, Robyn, & Merce
I. Train to Seville
Ace writes on the subway
his poems exactly
—this—
long
ours is a 5 & a half hour train
keep going keep going keep going
here comes the coffee truck
solar panels like flowers
behind a field of olive trees
& logs
what makes a country civilized?
a Catalan independence flag far from home
war, always the little men
who hate to be laughed at
his professor said about Gaudí:
either a genius or a madman
hanging chains that upside down
are buildings that don’t fall down
as so often with genius
obvious when you know how it’s done
    Byron’s Don Juan was born in Seville
    I was born in South Dakota
    some of my life seems glamorous
    & some just happened
    I’m not really from anywhere
    a war took care of that
sandstone, scrub, almost Texan
farther from the Mediterranean
“I have more desire than is safe”
you must know everything
history, baseball, the names of things
that plant that bird that comma
sand whiter by the mile
loop of highway: mostly trucks
no one’s looked at my tiquet
just past the factory, a Gothic church
here we are in Tarragona
here we are in Zaragoza
what happens on a train?
what do I want to happen to me?
and to Europe? & the world?
a day without disasters
a man looks at his watch, glances down the track
any year any place
I’ve outlived Ted, Beau, & 9 presidents
green again, red flowers in the fields
if you squint
could I be a woman alone?
I am I always am & my life is / isn’t
important (even to me)
coffee 2 euros. bread 2 euros.
she is forever whispering a song
dozens of thin stately windcatchers
my purpose is to sail beyond the sunset
no farm animals
Spain will get her freedom & you will still break stone
I used to travel to get away from myself
now I travel toward
turbines: that’s what they are
step 1 towards knowing everything
croft       valetudinarian     love
what is the meaning what is the cost
do turbines ever wear out?
not at this rate!
yikes they are much bigger closer!
mustard field
plow’n’pile: more rocks always
ponder’n’pen: more lines today
jungle prairie forest sea
how much can lands vary?
round building with round bulb top
have I seen my first Moorish element?
tree puffs reflect cloud meringues
reflect sheep reflect rock mounds
a low brick barn, ruined now
cheese, olives, pumpkin danish
red poppies ever more distinct
everyone is an exception