Bienvenido, Sucker

Well, now, I find myself defeated
By myself in Valparaiso, searching
Shuttered storefront windows,
In a summer, upside down, now
Winter, for a sign of you. You
Are not here. You didn't come,
And I, the eager emigrant,
Am forced to fumble, less than
Fluent in the Spanish I should
Speak. I know frijoles and
Arroz, but, from this flophouse
By the ocean, life is less than
I had dreamed. I'd dreamed
That I would be with you,
But you are up there, in the
Summer, done with me,
I must suppose, and I,
Another guy who thought
He'd seen a city made of
Gold, have learned that
What I saw was dross.
It's too late now to try to fly
Back up to where the weather's
Warm. You are gone, and here
It's cold, and I'm surviving on
Arroz, the picture of defeat.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 52 times
Written on 2015-01-09 at 02:39

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