After Spain

My wife and I just spent 11 lovely, spellbinding days in the heart of Barcelona, Spain. We stayed in this lovely apartment in L'Eixample, what can be considered the business center of Barcelona. The temperature, though touted as being extreme heat (which to all of you in Austin this will sound ridiculous), didn't peak above 85 Fahrenheit. There was a constant breeze blowing, and while the weather was amazing, and the people were gracious, I couldn't help but think to myself that this place is the birthplace of Texas. This is birthplace of the frontera.

Spain has such a unique history, being one of the first countries to organize themselves well enough to travel across the Atlantic Ocean and establish a claim in the New World. From there, they attacked the southern United States in the same fashion the Spaniards reclaimed their territory from the Moors. Since then, the country has seen numerous revolutions, the most recent being the Spanish Civil War, in which hundreds of Republican leaders were slaughtered in favor of a more socialist government. But, in between all that bloodshed and country building, supposedly the shadorma was invented there.

I've written about shadormas in the past. And, and can't seem to break down the etymology of the word. The closest I can think of is that this form's name would translate to something like "it's sleep," pulling the French Ca and the Spanish Dormir to create a fusion: Caduerma. At any rate, here are a few poems, among them shadorma, written in the heart of Spain, where they belong.

Thousands of
miles in the air, the
oven's on.

In the park,
his bubbles create a
coupled with the adversary
of dreamless nights' sleep.

Bubbles make
people happy; they dance
on the air.

wings are porcelain
here, I say,
as I peer
into the neverending
lithographs of hers.


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