The sea has no oranges, Seville no love.
Sunburned girl, give me a parasol to shelter
from your fiery eyes. You said pececillos
but I heard peccadillos—instead
of fish
in an orangeless sea, foibles
in a loveless city.
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Tomorrow is August which means more dry heat here in Santa Fe and a start to another round of 30/30, Tupelo Press' poem a day challe...
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