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The Suffocated Terrace
My Grandfather's old house in Rio Piedras The Suffocated Terrace “El silencio es el refugio de los desvalidos, pero también es la madriguera de los cómplices." Jorge Gómez Jiménez, Letralia a corpse buried under a mound of coconuts at the hour of the early breeze the red ground where heat and light are born like eggs with chorizo the stench of vomit a dead man’s journal I opened and read the first entry today I went to talk about my pension plan with the people at the suffocated terrace and it was like a revelation like walking down the steps of a twisted scar to the crack at the bottom of my back the journey was sprayed with vinegar I remembered grade school we had better toys and our shoes were made of leather hardly anyone complained about their DNA or taxes and I was single a kid but I paid taxes nothing like I do now to the same people at the suffocated terrace should I say suffocating or call it The Suffocate is it a terrace now that it’s walled and