04
Roberto

One night, when the sun
had done its work,
the boy and his ball
reverberated round a little square.
The men were huddled in Bombonero’s,
blue-faces lit round the TV.
Nino!! Come see this, learn!
The boy ran to his Papi.

Small, hugged in the circle of sweat and beer,
eyes on the screen,
watching the red-and-white
on the far-away green,
then a close up of all that was a man:
Kiko, with those wild eyes and whiskers,
arms thick as legs
and legs smooth as cannons.