Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

T is for Tangent . . .

Shall we travel to Tangiers
and sit again in that roadside cafe,
sipping hot mint tea?
Or drive along Tortola Boulevard
near the tar pits, the oil
coating the back of our throats,
the sunset murky red on the horizon?
Or watch that blonde tarantula in Tucson
go hunting for a mate,
right on the sidewalk in front of us;
he'd strayed there from the desert,
but he owned that sidewalk.
Or shall we wander down the streets
of old San Telmo in Buenos Aires,
the music of tango tempting us 
once again to sway to the beat
set by accordians,
perhaps to dance.
My suitcases stand by the door.
I am more than ready for a tangent.

I taped these three street musicians playing Klezmer on the streets of San Telmo in this 11-second clip.