‘Ballad of the Moon, Moon’ by David Morley

  Ballad of the Moon, Moon El aire la vela, vela. El aire la está velando. after Lorca   A pettelengra boy whacks petalos on his anvil.      The moon slides into his smithy, bright as a borì. The boy can not stop himself staring. The moon      releases her arms in flames of flamenco, her sweet dress slipping from one shoulder.      ‘Nash nash, … Continue reading ‘Ballad of the Moon, Moon’ by David Morley

Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton

  Hondo First the gole flew solo – a palo seco – , before the bailaores’ feet flamed the ground that fettered them, (and gold bled), before they turned like caged Punjabi tigers, hand-speaking to the heavens. Only the gole went through bars, through locks, able-bodied as the wind, face to face with Undivé. Before the string machinery of guitars, came drawers, baskets, washing boards, … Continue reading Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton