The Emerging Artist (can I still call her that?) and I are walking part of the Caminho Portuguès, from Porto to Tui (which is in Spain, but quite a way from the goal of true pilgrims, Santiago de Compostella. We are not true pilgrims: we’re not sporting scallop shells, we left our Pilgrim’s Passports in our hotel room in Porto, and we don’t anticipate spiritual experiences. But I’ll try to put up a couple of bits of verse each day. So here goes, with Day One.
I though we’d be like vermin
but sweet European birdsong
and men on bikes in lycra
wish us Bom Caminho.
——
Twang two three four
thud two three four.
Walk with a stick and
follow follow follow
follow the yellow arrów.
——
Here the eucalypts
are a virus caught from capital
but they still smell like home.
——
On these cobbled high-walled roads
cars approach like thunder.
Me fail? I fly! 