Some Unfeeling Waves
As they used to write
A child would die typically on a holiday to the seaside
Some unruly waves brought in to set the mood
A bad marriage would become worse
A suicide launching those still alive into the life
They were meant to lead
And things would end there leaving us to think
Of unrealistic plans we had abandoned
Spending the night revising and drinking
Over what had long ago stopped worrying our sleep
There are friends we can talk to about these things
Who don’t care how the past holds us back
We lend each other books and cassettes
Filled with scratchy and wobbly emissions
Which we nervously break into bits
Grand Tour
Take from these
A stained announcement
In a bucket of corks
Stamped with vintages
In private moments they burned
Witches in soap bubbles
Destroyed their instruments
Before adoring Japanese girls
Stethoscope landings for hijacked
Airplanes on a runway of thorns
Like cracking a safe
Breathe deeply it said
As you hit the slides alarmed to bounce
On a concrete bottom
Say the words without a stutter
That’ll bring you the fierceness
Of cuttlefish changing colors
On the way back from some European jaunt
Where disappointment
Like Oklahoma
Followed you around
Your local congressman
Tired of waiting for your endorsement
Sublet your emotions
To a future without a past
Worth its salt or anything
But a lot of sitting at bars
Exposed to the elements
In your space blanket of desires
You survived
biography
ARMANDO JARAMILLO GARCIA was born in Colombia, South America and raised in New York City. He graduated from Aviation High School and attended Hunter College. Prelude Books will publish his debut collection of poetry, The Portable Man, in 2017. His work has also appeared recently in Boston Review, Public Pool, Prelude, Horse Less Review, TYPO, inter|rupture and others.