To Summer.
A summer suicide note
May appear anywhere
At any time.
To keep the
World in check
To keep the
Conversation flowing.
You see,
We’re all shirts off
Leaning on
Stanchions,
Standing on
Platforms
Exhausted from the heat
And spitting
In the road.
We’re turning left
While aiming right.
Way Station.
Ghosts pass in hallways
And on this beach.
Where the sun reflects
Images of cells
Containing
Two nuclei.
Where I sit and reflect
On fear
And how to abandon it.
This beach is made of skulls,
Bones ascending,
Rising
From dead fish waters.
Rat-skin spines stem from
This beach.
Their branches hang
Like guilty men.
Liberare.
This is my Cuba.
The balcony,
My veranda
Overlooking the brown rooftops
Grey houses and
Tarmac lakes.
Playing
Screaming
Fighting
The kids are my ocean waves
Crashing against the cars
And electricity.
Our revolution
Will never come
Through words.
Followers
About Me
- Black-Listed Magazine
- Black-Listed Magazine is an online literary magazine. We publish on a rolling basis: weekly, daily, sometimes hourly. Send submissions here: blacklistedmagazine@hotmail.com
Blog Archive
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2010
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June
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June
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