No Time to Lose - This poem was just published with four other poems at Anti-Heroin Chic

No Time to Lose

It's cold here.

Its color, a ninja turtle orange,

and only 5 days left

for el Presidente Electo

to inaugurate his burned hair,

his head of a hijo de la chingada,

his midget politician tweets.

People say it's worth traveling

to this Swearing In,

that this kind of shit makes you grow.

The thing is my body

cannot stand another Jetblue seat,

another Greyhound cafe.

Besides, winter hurts.

Its whiteness rusts the snow.

Its racism confuses me,

makes me feel small,

like a very distant echo.

Fuck it, if I go back to D.C.

it's because I want to visit

the Smithsonian's

African American Collection.

Where merchant ships loaded

with shipwrecked slaves

cry out my name.