07
Paseo

At last, rising in the vast, implausible air of summer
Kiko scored, roared,
and a million Madrilenians convulsed...
later, sweaty, sticky like a lolly –
infinite people partied down the Paseo del Prado.
Giddy little Nando, wide-eyed,
sang the songs,
meant every word and watched the fireworks

but he could not see the Fuente de Neptuno.
Papi, ovewhelmed, lifted Nando,
and the men from Bombonero's
offered him forward:
scared and man-handled,
on his belly, eyes losing Papi,
passed over-and-over by fathers and brothers
screaming, to arrive, alone, at the security barriers.