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This poem is taken from PN Review 277, Volume 50 Number 5, May - June 2024.

Two Poems Becky May
Instead of leaving it too late, we go to Cabo de Gata

(after Louisa Adjoa Parker)

The weekend starts in Almería, some corner place.
The lunch-hour barman bangs down beers,
our fingers anchovy-greasy, crumpled serviettes on the floor.
On the coast road, I play you Chambao’s ‘Ahí estás tú’
as we speed past succulents, white-cubed houses.
We talk college discos, haybales and handfasting at your wedding,

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