There is a bitter root

Somewhere in this house is (should be) a hardback first edition (foxed) City Lights pocketbook of the selected poems of Federico Garcia Lorca.

I carried it to Spain and laid it on his desk in his home in town. My tour had to wait for the private visit of a famous bullfighter.

And I had a book dealer and leather worker who made journals cuz he also made paper make a cover for it of Spanish leather.

And I can’t find it.

I’m going to take down my big thick Collected and read every sad poem I can find. Which might take a while. But I have plenty of whiskey and cigarettes.

Ay! Mi precioso libro! Nunca volveremos a Granada en el tiempo de las flores naranjas.

One thought on “There is a bitter root

  1. I decked you with necklaces,
    jewels of dawn.
    Why have you left me
    alone on this road?
    If you go far away,
    my bird will weep
    and the green vineyard
    will make no more wine.

    From “Nocturn”

    Liked by 1 person

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