How does the past re-make the present?
Big, solid, I-haven't-seen-you-for-three-years-but-I-still-care-about-you
hugs
Catch me in the sun
On a train waiting for you
Bobbing your head to Afro-Brazilian beats
Your body knows its home
Doesn't need your head
to tell it what to do
but you still talk
in circles to justify
your presence in
this city
and absence from
your country
And we meet on street corners
Past the latino man selling fruit
Lil Wayne blaring from stores
in the heart of the Bronx
Past snakes on the shoulders of men
and through the park.
You still wear funky hats
and drink tequila-lime-soda,
still aspire to write.
And me? I still can't stay more than a day.
