after Pedro Pietri
Crickets, coquis corrobórate. Mezzo.
Alto. Tenor. Chemical coladas are pumped
like stale petroleum from fracked rocks.
The joy of combustion at five dollars a pop.
Surf shops collide with Desecheo Island.
Silicon Valley Spanish stings like chlorine,
an ill refuge from portfolios and defaulted
mortgages seared on grills that serve no native
dish. The esclavos fed-exed to Co-op City,
Humboldt Park, Kensington, where nature
is a cable program shot from a satellite dish
in twenty minute cycles and sunsets come
with membership fees. Coconuts, cangrejos
are gathered and stacked. For tonight there
will be a fiesta in the hacienda overlooking
Culebra, but the residents did not receive
an invitation, Coral contorts into ads for cell
phones. Panorama in flux. Coffee plantation
permutated into port. Cracked conch serves
as chrysalis for research station. A naval base
etched into islet. Yucca fields tailored into
spa resort. The new natives will boast of job
creation and toast to how the quality of life
has improved for the mosquitos who now
feast on sweet meat of plump and primped
immigrants blown in from el norte.
