By Roque Salas Rivera
a billboard announces the construction of the new electric plant
next to the basketball court where you play like you study.
you are sick
because they told your parents the stains in the sky
were renovations.
the proof they offered was the pentecostal church
and its parking.
someone planted a table in the park, offered free tarot,
and read that in two decades your government
would empty your account.
you pray and pray your barrio’s economic situation will improve.
you’re answered by machines that offer you numerical options.
you know no solution is linear.
the gps sends you down a street that no longer exists,
but you memorized beaches and their relations to
cement as if these were your history,
this your scintillating railway.
the elders try to not die despite cancer
and our rulers’ persistent hate.
you are young and subsidize your life with kites and films.
but you also get sick because the water is sick,
because the buildings have asbestos, because your feet
touch the ground and you breathe while you sleep.
Raquel Salas Rivera, "and because you were born here " from before island is volcano. Copyright © 2022 by Raquel Salas Rivera. Reprinted by permission of Beacon Press, Boston, Massachusetts.
Poet Bio
More By This Poet
to approach
treatment belongs to water.
it designates the sum of all relations one has with another.
you might say the life schemed between two is treatment.
to treat water is to cure it for consumption, but your
treatment speaks volumes about your desire to bear...
wing
the wing of the sea is the wave;
the wave of the sky is the rain;
the salt of the rain falls as hail;
and the hail of hate rains in shots;
the shot of the soul is the bell;
bell without time is the...