Monday, September 12
POEM WRITTEN BY MY DAD BASED ON A DREAM A DAY
BEFORE MY SECOND BIRTHDAY, BRONX, 1992
Dream of language burning
dream crystillian
songs echoing convictions
thundering
a cloudscape floating overhead
a razor
a looming face
dream of words turned to smoke
smoke rising from a cosmic bonfire
I know the eyes
but not the face. (Ariel Francisco)