Collective Unrest

 

Sinking City

February 6, 2019

Beyond rescue, Miami is a
cruise ship lost at sea with no
lifeboats, throwing an all night
dance party, music and stamping feet
drowning out the sound of taking
on water— but no,  not lost,
the sea knows exactly where it is.

 

*Previously published in Public Pool

 

Ariel Francisco is the author of All My Heroes Are Broke (C&R Press, 2017). A poet and translator born in the Bronx to Dominican and Guatemalan parents and raised in Miami, his work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Academy of American Poets, The American Poetry Review, Best New Poets 2016, Gulf Coast, and elsewhere. He lives in East New York.

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

The Boys of Nine

The child in Yemen was 12-3; the same gilded age of brilliance and fight my son will be in 4+5 years. A tender yet defiant age of nine years, (10 summers) - aptly filled with friends and fears, bullies and…
Read
Older Post

Impeachment Day

He’s ugly, stand behind me child. You’re safe now but — Look away. But, I want to see him. He is hideous. He has horns, and a forked tail, and holes where his eyes should be. Beauty is on the…
Read
Random Post

Pulse

I listened to the soft racism in the booth next to me. Heard it spread across the room, become sexist and then homophobic before it rested at my foot. Western Colorado is not all that unlike Utah, or Texas, or…
Read
Random Post

Her Name Was Juliette

TW for school shooting and death   They knocked down the oldest house in the neighborhood a couple weeks ago. It was white with grey stone layering and an orangey-red Spanish roof.  It had a jumbled and unstructured design, with…
Read
Random Post

Rosemary’s Lobotomy

After Rosemary Kennedy “Darling Daddy, I hate to disappoint you in any way. Come to see me very soon. I get very lonesome every day.” Engulfed in tulle, like a sprig of herb in a wedding bouquet, she curtsied. A…
Read
Random Post

The Whole Thing is a Temple

Two elements burning in the hearts of stars. The presence of a third, the movement of the molecule. Two chemicals turned into one hundred and eighteen. Call them everything. The sun is just another star burning, turning, floating in space.…
Read