Castilian Dreams in the Dead of Winter

Dali scenes flicker in night flights
of the mind where castles burn like
forests in Basque as the separators
huddle in fields of golden firs that
glow in the dark on the far horizon
of time where this is no end in sight
to the lifeline of our kind in eternal
space adonde padre mio avionse con
las estrellas en los cielos o el corazon
un lugar hermoso aunque los toros
rumble down the hall stirring golden
slumbers awake with heavy lumber
of sweet dreams de la mujer prefiero
who fled over the hills full saddle on
a bronze Palomino southbound from
Ole El Paso toward cuidad Juarez o
Durango tal vez to meet a Gaucho on
the run for a hasty tango like in a flick
with Brando a z rated scene if such a
thing there be as wild animal spirits
spit the bit free from the yoke and the
ties that bind as las puntas seduce los
ninos del verano on the sly sneaking
off leaving but a snow like trace of lace
only to find baby it’s cold outside