Embedded Files
i am old and lonely in the city where we met
for estefanía cabello
in the café i order
coca cola
the ice cubes’
spectacular
twist
the lime
meets
the next person i meet
benjamín prado
i am old and lonely in the city you
wrote to teresa rosenvinge to tell her about teresa rosenvinge
i am old and lonely in the city
you introduced me to estafanía cabello
in the flesh
the ice is melting
who will i be meeting
or who will be meeting me
estafanía took the image
of the blackbird
in her poem muchacha con mirlo en las manos
from her fourth collection of poetry
muchacha con mirlo en las manos
from me
i only know because
in my poem green axolotls
in my book
a fondness for the colour green
there is exactly the same image
moving from my hand to hers
as if by magic
i wrote merlin
i meant blackbird
i don’t what either word means
i don’t know my way around my mother tongue
the way you knew
the steps to my front door
the weariness of warsaw in winter
ice is melting in my glass
maybe you wrote the image better
maybe you wrote it worse
i no longer care
the only movement
is the waiter’s black shoes
and the ice
vanishing on my tongue
down my throat
into my throat
as a world moves from my mind to yours
as if by magic
i remember cordoba in the pouring rain
i remember you best of all in blue
all night in an airport lounge
in madrid adolfo suarez
longing for the broken sky of shanghai
what was the point
of our relationship
when you had everything you needed in your suitcase
the jokes that made us better
or a line from javier egea’s troppo mare and a shot to flaca
by andres calamaro
what was the point
of suffering?
i came back to the city
to be lonely
& old
and remember how you forgave
the cold winter with her snow and ladybirds
the waiters waltz by
the lime in my glass glows blue
a young couple order wine and hamburgers
the ice melts faster
when john died
after an accident with fentanyl or opioids or
whatever stopped his heart from beating
i wrote to tell you
estefanía cabello
you did not even reply
what does liberating blackbirds for the cause of feminism
say about you
if the blackbirds belonged to nobody?
benjamín prado
taught me
the ports of europe are sad in winter
estefanía cabello, you taught me
you would have to suck my tongue dry
to compete with me
so why am i writing about you
if the distance is only a poem
if the question is only a curve
if i cared
i would tell you
a word in your ear
is an echo of you
fracturing
mid verse
movement being merely an echo
we can only hold a garden in blue
deliberately
in our minds
or wait to order until words arrive
as the ice melts around the garden chairs
the garden vanishes
from my hand into imagination
and the café closes at night
my holiday is over
i note wearily
we are still in love
albeit with other people
the chairs are being stacked on the tables
i am old and lonely in the city where we met
the city of cordoba
weak winter light
a kite
tensing the line for freedom
deliberately breaking off
its echo of you
mid verse
Charlie Baylis is from Nottingham. His poetry has been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize, once for the Forward Prize and his translations commended in the Stephen Spender Prize. He is studying for a PhD in Spanish translation at the University of Nottingham. His first collection of poetry is a fondness for the colour green (Broken Sleep Books, 2023).
Copyright © 2025 by Charlie Baylis, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.
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