to the house on 8th and 14th court
built with new money and old methods
sitting on a bed of weeds, gnats dancing ‘round my calves
where termites are tenants and floozy cats their friends
with white wooden shingles and shutters like selsun:
houses like you were built with the promise
that it was, and continues to be, June in Miami;
give us wealth and we’ll give you marsh, they chanted
while they poked the soft earth and picketed a board that read
WELCOME PLEASE WELCOME
BIENVENIDOS LOS BIENAVENTURADOS
hello, Yes, hello, women of weak temperance:
here you may wear your pearls and your halter dresses —
allow the amber of your shoulders to glimmer under the sun
and live like a heroine as you amble above branches of palm
and if men be brash and scared and hungry for a name,
step this way, you Rockefellers-to-be, for Yes, we welcome you
no down payments, no credit, no fear of the Prinz Valdemar
no need to put coal in the fire or a coat over your golden frame
QUÉ TE CUESTA, SAY THE TEQUESTA
SURROUNDED BY BEAUTIFUL MATURE OAK TREES
EXQUISITELY LOCATED BY THE MIAMI RIVER
pretty, Yes, but the room arrangements no longer make sense
closets lead to corridors lead to caverns lead to corners —
you’re 87 years old now, your bones wiggle and rasp
the floors sturdy as dentures and windows thin as rice paper
this damn stadium is out of place, as is this love and this town
but it’s still June, the lore goes, so long as we’re above ground
— from our freshly squeezed ROARING FITS OF SUMMER issue
