in berlin, there were carrots and acrobats sprouting from every park. men wore babycarriers and women went barefoot and kids swung from trees howling like monkeys. it’s a place of leisure.
in dresden, there were ashened facades and sad fountains and an australian restaurant serving kangaroo. it felt like a chimneysweep’s skin.
in prague, men in red harass stag parties with the prospect of titty clubs and hash, spires and churches ding-donging their midnight bells. pilseners and cans of chickpeas kept me alive while i breathed the chainsmokers’ air. seagulls caught my breadcrumbs in mid-air.
in bilbao, there was fragrant cheese and a toothless dog.
in asturias, there was more fragrant cheese. cider dribbled down cobblestoned streets, bearded old men spilled glasses of red wine and barked about the merit of john wayne. spanish masculinity on the rise. women wear sequined swim suits.
in cantabria, i talked to brown cows.
in galicia, i went in the sea when it rained and when it didn’t and i stepped on a fish, cracked open a muscle on a rock and felt guilty afterwards incase it felt something because it was soft inside like inside me. the woman in the plaza sold me a dozen figs for a euro. the honey she sold was deep brown like molasses.
(matisse, spanish woman with tambourine)