Front Porch Review
A literary magazine for the young at heart and mind

to the whores along the gran via
the black ones huddled in the doorway
of a closed perfume store
laughing and eating mcdonalds
thank you for being there
to help me usher in the glory of madrid
to the one who stood in the rain
outside the plaza del callao
yes, you, the brunette with the spandex skirt
who huddled into herself
as the protest kids came by
after leaving another rally
i simply cannot explain your significance
in this poem
to the one who oscar said
was probably an American
who yelled at us in spanish
as we dragged our tired asses
down the sparkling street
swearing up and down that she was a canadian
join the club, baby
but i swear i saw you one time
just outside of l.a.
to the one waiting at the plaza espana metro stop
hiding from the policia
as they dressed down skateboarders
still out at this time of night
you were no ghost to me, sweetheart
i saw your vision
but i wish that i knew your soul
to the whores along the gran via
the default mistresses of the spanish night
to the ones that i mentioned
and to the ones that i did not see
keep safe, my angels.

By John Grochalski

John Grochalski is the author of two collections of poetry, The Noose Doesn't Get Any Looser After You Punch Out and Glass City. He wakes up at 5 A.M. six out of seven days a week to pound out poetry and fiction while drinking a gallon of coffee while daydreaming of scotch and beer. Grochalski is a public librarian and lives in Brooklyn, New York, where he is currently in search of a new bar as the Board of Health closed his down. His e-mail address: John Grochalski