Bio: Juan Parra is a Cuban American poet whose work has featured in The Indiana Review, Flapperhouse, The Chicago Quarterly Review, and Driftwood Press. He teaches ELA at Aventura City of Excellence School. Parra lives in Miami with his wife and two beautiful children.
Like This I Remain
I am still an immigrant.It’s been thirty years since,And I’m still the tear that drowned the Havana coastline.The rough waters, and the stench of vomit still blemish my fingers.There’s a blind man that offers me a Superman doll, but I’m too wrinkled to play withDolls. Castro and Pinochet hammer down my toes dressed as JesuitsIn the nightmare they conjured.I have a rusty machete; I’ll use it to cut the fields of grass,Which are miles and miles long.
Saint Lazarus Santero
Saint Lazarus woke up to music and aromas of cigars dipped in sweat.He dreamt a beautiful dream: No beggars, or dogs praying in tongues,Or brainwashed factory workers,Or even “Hail Mary” whispered to scarecrows suffering from leprosy.“Exhale smoke on my face, I don’t mind if you do, and rub ashes on my wounded knees.Dress all my dogs in blue and red. Fuck, I’ll even dress in all blue and red.” Shouted Lazarus, while Shaking his ass to timbales and conga drums.