Eliot Greenspan


An Expatriate's Pledge To The Americas[1]

I plead amnesia to the drag
Of the tired states of the Americas
And to the Republics which Might commands
Many nations, far from God
Nearly invisible
With Structural Adjustments
And genocide for the Poor

Sugar Beach

                             Eugenia laughs
          dances to su propio rhythm
                               puts on lotion

foot flicking sand

in nervous motion

    distant hills show dry ridges

Tom tells me, "in
il nuovo mundi

      the waves will
      come in Alexandrine

something like that, or
the whole group
takes off

    leaning forward towards

            the shore


baffling combustions
& stumbling grace

    my dreams get younger
                           Eugenia laughs

Hotel Capri

poking gingerly round
open wounds &
long losts

not taking the initiative
lose the impetus
these are my just deserts

    waits for us
    in the lobby

tables are turned
you roll my "r"s

      more of the same

3 polaroids are a fat man's

    waves along the Malecón
    y tengo testigos

Air Cubana[1]

little walks let rest, books
to read and books I've read

a solitary fan stands
like a spinning eye

or the left outer engine
of the four prop plane

that brought us together

      a Northeast wind
            this same sun

a rooster crows in time & tune
to the neighbor's TV afternoon

golondrina is your eyebrows
and other birds come around

hard to heed
all the signs
        displace nature
               and throw the coins

Flowers From Tulum[1]

a Dutch tourist climbs
steep steps

    soft grass covers
    crumbled buildings

I trade whistles
with an orange & black tanager
               as aguaceros pass

I have nothing for you
I leave tomorrow

    just a rainbow over the ruins
    and these flowers from Tulum

Playa del Carmen[1]

in the heavy heat
and strong sweat

    stuck in the
    tight weave
    of a Yucatan

no strength to move
so slip into yet
another sueño

    as kids play in puddles

once again
El Caribe
has stopped
      and stolen

mesmerized by the pace
light mixing clouds

and this unimaginable
of blues & greens

    after 10 years I
    find the shells
    on the beach
    as I left them

the curve of your lips
pulled back over teeth


        The shadows
        Of too many nights of love
        Have fallen beneath your eyes.
                Langston Hughes, "Soledad"

to have come all this way
       waited so long
                 and still

to confront
         such arcane
                 cultural architecture

    these are vagrant times

the dark doesn't call
or invite
one wants it

      on these ancient
      almost unchanged

waiting for the guagua
a soft guaguancó
waves against the Malecón

[1]From Map of You, Map of Me
Selva Editions
2737 Kalmia Ave Boulder, CO 80304 USA

©Eliot Greenspan , 1997