Tapas. Tiny food. And if you drink? —this is the time, time for very high heels. (Hold me) The cousins wonderedRed wine is best. Sit at the table, ankles crossed. (How old?) there are twenty-seven blackbirds I tell you: it gets better, if you(hold my hand) —into the ocean (go the girls) each one is a speck of the birds are all black, they eat dust. Take a picture: twenty-sevenMajas. Mi americanita, he says. (There is no Chardonnay from CA) mírame. Oh, the music throbs— the line starts here, all the way inLas cosas están malas. (in the back) he’s really (an actor, a magician, a fraud). In twenty-seven inch high heels. “Las muchachitas” have gone(wild) a parrot screeches Hey! the music throbs (how old are you?)

Here in America, (16 oz. is a measure) here in Spain. –mamá,las cosas están —nothankyou. (Arriba) Words paradox. are you? take the veil. Mírame get old. This is an egg, this is a girl, this isa blackbird. Tócame (there is barely any time) una guitarra to measure. (Pour the wine) —the blackbirds fly— (in an arc)in go the girls. (Out) twenty-seven times go I am a terrible spy the blackbirds. Twenty-seven girls (like tiny dishes) Pop! goesYour mouth. (Here is an opening) Place your finger —on the edge red the color of leather mu?equita (flip the coin) into the barrelGo with the blackbirds. Mamá, things are bad.

A dog crosses the street. (at night) all the girls wear heels. How old? (Si estuviera) —ICould not possibly. Por qué? (it’s a little like yakitori) You know, at night all (the girls) are blackbirds. (Come with me) Forever, he says.Is no time at all (no es suficiente). (All the girls) go into the ocean. All the birds se me metió (like a scented, sweet wine) —I didn’t mean to porqué?On the beach a cradle of mountains pour the wine (in an arc) High all (around the coast) Twenty-seven blackbirds —over your head. Scented,Sweeter than girls. (muchachitas) they will not want (picture it) they will not taste —porqué? (hold my head) above the water twenty-sevenTimes I have been to Spain. (I saw your face) your mouth (things are) not bad,

he said cuenta conmigo —you will always be here (a bride)A blackbird. Red wine leaves (an indelible stain) Mi vida, send me twenty-seven postcards (send me) sweet, scented wine (if you leave)I will not —the birds cover the ground with their scent how can I return? Look. Here are the mountains. (sit) Ankles, crossed, las muchachitasDo not wait for me in Spain. Pero? (things are bad) Twenty-seven blackbirds will fly (across the ocean) you will not return. You will see the mountainsCrowds walk the streets. They sit at the tables. Las muchachitas pican at their food.