Silky
smoke, with a hint
of leather - succulent
spice from the cigar teases my
palette

I am seer of thine in Abernathy
but squarely this divineness fore
my essence will describe
with maturation on my side whether
or not this dither fantasize will deduce gold hexagons
that mix a feather awhile and let dolce vita thrive
a supremely superb undulance in ubiquity here.

U Thant
suited this
assembly and
made well
of United
Nations then
only his
legacy may
tell if
this Cuban
thaw matched
his twill
and his
real change
for world
peace in
Thanksgiving here.

i can not even write this
because it will be anti
american
unpatriotic
and an
insult to
the land
of freedom
i was born in.
I can not even write this
because I am the first
generation
daughter
child
born in
the land
of freedom.
I can not write this
because my abuela
will tell me that I am
lebanese
cuban
and i was
born in
the land of
freedom.
i can not even write this
because my Tio
who came to
America
at the age of 6
and had “adjustment”
issues will remind me that
I
Am
American.
Tio will tell me that
I
am privileged.
because I was
born in the
land of freedom.
Abuela will remind me
that CUBA is
dead.
Abuie will remind me
to hush about all things
Arabic and Lebanese
because I am
American
born in the
land of freedom.
She reminds to hush
about the black
eyes
that see past
this land to the past
of other places
that whisper
my name.
They remind me
that I am
American and
not a communist
not a terrorist
not a girl who
hears her name
sung in the winds
of other lands
which i have not
wandered.
Abuela reminds me
to not yearn for
white sandy beaches
with waves that break
on a rock laiden wall.
Abuie reminds me
to ignore the need
for hot sand
beneath my feet
and wafting smell
of foreign spices
that are
unknown
to those born
in the land of freedom.
In the land of
freedom?