POEM A DAY 2019

Here on the Malecón

Caribbean natural music blends
into polychromatic colors, sound and light

motor engines mingle
with lapping upper octave waves

birds in flight & ghost notes hum
trap bass beats from a pimped out car

pra-pra-cata versus Marc Anthony's wao
booming from a jukebox at the local bar

joda que se joda contra la corriente
la noche viene

on the malecón / home away from home playa breezes
smell salty sweet & blues layer in deep formations

pink and orange watercolor-brushed wind chimes
singing coquis mixed into the underpainting of

a picture perfect
postcard

on our block, a green-eyed gray tabby meows under a crescent moon, the black dog with a floppy ear points its tail straight in the air sniffs into the eyes of his friend, a brown horse from down the road

Like Pâté, I guess

You have made of me
charcuterie
my little heart cured
in the smoke of you

Rembering to do a thing

if i don’t write a thing down
i will forget a thing
i learned this young
and began a system of pen notes
and reminders
on the back of my hand
even when smudged
it was a reminder of the thing
i would otherwise forget
when i became more adult
i abandoned my hand
for post it notes
and handwritten lists
on the fridge
and tiny notepads
taped to
my computer screen and keyboard and on my desk
then technology made more efficient to-do lists and reminders
that buzz and pop when you need them to
but today i went old school
taking my pen to my hand
smudged in the end
but still i remembered
to do the thing
and i did

Wide

The tidal pools in Maine are worlds unto themselves
rich and swaying and
plentiful enough that the seven of us kids -
so used to being crowded in together
competing for resources, glances, some passing affection -
flung ourselves far and wide from each other
free to squat
wade
lounge
pluck
stare
to our hearts' contente

Sight Beyond Sight

to the wince and the glare.

Absence of a Sniper

I am watching her
not up there
not on the sandy tower
not walking, stalking, crouching, camouflaging.
catching me in her range
betraying her bulk in a field of antennas
harsh and lonely spires.