Un Caribeño tells me:
we are spoiled here
we eat burgers, fries
arroz y habichuelas negras, plátanos
for two dollars and ninety-nine cents
others starve, looking for a few bits—
We forget hunger…
I love America
but I dream of mangoes,
Café Santo Domingo, merengue,
salsa, bachata, son
I can’t forget the sun on my back
in my eyes
but this is Nueva York in winter
and I can’t see the beautiful brown legs
of las mulatas
can’t see their curves as they move
in the streets of Brooklyn, Bronx,
in the Upper West
Washington Heights…
Now I eat at Lenny’s Bagels and Gray’s Papaya
I look at the Hudson
instead of the Caribbean waters, los malecones.
Proud of Gloria, Shakira, Mark, JLo
Juan Luís Guerra, Celia Cruz…
I dream of la tierra
where we were born,
I walk Central Park
with our islands in my pockets
and my gloves on.