Urgent Poems for a
Humanitarian Crisis
elon
Elon Musk says that, if given the
green light, he can power Puerto Rico.
-Headline on Market Watch, October 6, 2017.
you have
the green light
the blue
light
the
moonlight
our
sunlight
my
flashlight
my Medalla
Light
and that’s
not to be taken lightly
matter and decay
the
charred silhouetted bones
of trees spread against the dark
of trees spread against the dark
the shrouds
the night like a FEMA
plastic
sheeting cover suffocating
the
agonies of earth
a voice on
my portable radio summons
my silence
ribboned with 170 mph gusts
of wind
that dissemble the irony of breath
with
people looking for other people,
a woman
sheltered herself
with forty
goats, two ghosts
and a saltine-cracker
tin, she said
we are all
missing here
the flood dragged
a man
who,
trying to save a chicken,
drowned
stuck to his home’s cyclone
fence lungs
filled with dark
water, he
met a destiny reserved
for those
who float on the futility
of saving
someone else’s meal
two houses
down,
the golden
tenants at a nursing home,
heavy with
memories and fear
and
determined to live longer,
carried their
meds and walking carts
into the
roof to watch how an unburied
half of a split
cistern tank sailed
right to
them, a vessel sent by God
or god
or chance
or both
the
seniors jumped into the plastic
barge and
sailed away towards the end
of the
street where the land awaited
and life
prolonged like words on an echo
the
consequences of matter melt and spill
decay over
the ravaged land- I milk
the
darkness that swamps that old world
beginning
to rot in my lips
desolation like sushi
we sat in
eloquent stoicism
to watch
the dark- the big dark dome
a
half-black moon like a flooded
bay at
dusk. relentless, we fished
question
marks and the possibility of light
and its
menaces. we murdered
the sunset
and wondered if thirst
was only
objectification by words
turning to
sand. we smoked
cigarettes
by instinct because we lost
our mouths
and eyes and sense of loss
we burped
gin and cold rice. we tasted
desolation
like sushi. as we watched
the last
ice bag melt and return
to the
innocence of water. we wandered
without
luck or pain but a flat numb misery
and we’ll
evaporate before
we find
out. we vibrate nervously
and
escape. like we always do. we are
fictions
by design and tragedy unites us all
with its
chronology and the belief
in
predicaments. we blow in the spectacle
and sight
of a dream. we breathe disruptions
in iconic
charges and we flash in
the sky.
we’ll upload and post whenever
we eat the
flesh of promises and make knives
with their
bones. smudged. sprinkled. purified
we
consecrate a vision. we watch the dark and play
Héctor
Lavoe –Rompe saragüey-. we let it all
sink in
Elidio La Torre Lagares
Elidio La Torre Lagares obtained an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Texas-El Paso. I have published several poetry collections in Spanish, and I am preparing my first English language book of poems, titled Wonderful Wasteland. My poetry in English has appeared in Revista Centro Jornal (City University of New York), Azaleas, Malpaís Review and Sargasso. In Puerto Rico, I have been awarded the Puerto Rico Pen Club Prize for Fiction in 2000, 2001, and 2004. I currently teach literature and creative writing at the University of Puerto Rico. My first novel in English, The Geometry of Loss, has recently been submitted for publication.
Tags:
Poetry
Wow. Love that.
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ReplyDeleteThese poems are a meaningful response to a “humanitarian crisis.” We need more such heartfelt responses!
ReplyDeleteChocante, le toca el corazon a todo el que deberás ama su patria y nuestra islita que tanto a sufrido biendo sus hijos muriendo a sus pies.
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