At La Casa Botin, we suck tentacles stewed in a pocket of hunger.
We learn Hemingway dipped his pen in this hunger.
Duende bird of ink, your house of deepsong and fortress,
where even cats listen, stray from their hunger.
Sevilla, she swirls her mantón around arms, claps,
even dance won’t defy history or Spanish Hunger.
There’s a lover in California folding his dress socks, straightening
his bookshelf, a mouth in absence won’t satisfy hunger.
She tastes her finger of ink from the latticed bowl,
I imagine we are descendants of this hunger.
Travel Tip: Make sure to make a reservation if you're planning on dining at a highly-recommended restaurant as it could get crowded. But if you only have a day or two to spend in a city like Madrid, you may have a good chance of getting in without a reservation by showing up when the restaurant opens. Most restaurants in Madrid start to open at 8:00pm for dinner, but Madrilenos don’t show up for dinner at 8pm.
For more information on Rachelle Cruz's work, please visit http://www.racruzzo.wordpress.com/.
You may also join her on her radio show:
The Blood-Jet Writing Hour" Radio Show http://www.thebloodjet.wordpress.com/