I wrote this on the plane back home under the influence of flu medicine and exhaustion:
A solidarity baby travels
At the speed of yesterday
Encounters paradise and traffic jams
Hammocks for dreams and love-making
Pot holes and roads rarely travled
Heavily policed secondary sexualities
Sun-stroked economic hustlers beating down on imaginary countries
Associated states of yearning and just getting by
nationalistic flag waving
light blue for independence.
Don’t forget Puerto Rico,
where bilingualism
gives me hope of tropical utopia
Strangled in American dollars
Faulty freedoms comes at a price
blockading temporary travel for Cubans
stifling intellectual interchange
enduring temperamental transnational transgressors.
Legacies of Caribbean pirates dance on the sand to salsa backbeats
With rebellious dancehall reggaeton anthems from streetcorners
Grinding, slapping bodies
releasing tensions instead of dancing around the issues
From this pressure cooker of ownership
Air conditions, conditional flows
Get me stuck in random colonial moments
I revel in mixed conversations
Flirt with community and temporary latino-ness
Juggling my own schizophrenic bridge making
Ruptures in my centralamericanness
Forging traveled identity and generational self knowledge
Timeless transitions
Recognition in bicultural living
Seeking rican-struction to call my own.
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