Gabriel Ojeda-Sague is Miami <-> Philly, child of Cuban exiles and Puerto Ricans. His first collection, Oil and Candle (Timeless Infinite Light, March 2016), is a set of writings on Santeria, war, and the precarity of Latino-American lives. He is also the author of 4 chapbooks, most recently Where Everything is in Halves, poems against death through the Legend of Zelda, and ‘Yo’ Quiere Decir Sunburn, poems on anxious bilingualism. He has recently completed a manuscript on Jazzercise.
‘Yo’ Quiere Decir Sunburn
la lámpara
magnífica quiere decir
altura y pasteurized
yo quiere decir sunburn yo
también lavo el único núcleo
tuyo as if matte hair was
pasture y sí, sí me llevan pal
rinconcito de esa luna hay
lunatic morons una fila my
toenails sizzling over popping
cedar esta vez no, como si
yo quisiera hablar de mal humor
mata la planta pre-nup a
clogged city that flower
is whiter than mine it’s
a feathery comforter
no hubiera frito las manos si
no viviera en la casa doblada
yo quiero traerte pero yo quiere
decir sunburn y allí es donde
me tranco; tal, tal, tal
esa luna, esa, esa
Avispaaaaaa
el tornillo, la herramienta
que imagina lo que es ser
casado, thrown like
a shotput, just a
dance away hay una
avispaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
no confío en el cuarto no
aterrizo en Maryland di a
luz la luz, esta, esta luz
I am embarrassed as I am every
Tuesday to speak twice
no mi placer pero
mi boca, transformada
de otra manera en Marilyn
it smells like crusty nothing el Uber
que me encuentra en
la calle 16 y Lombard, esta
vez yo soy el edificio
Mujeriego
los hombres de mi
familia son murciélagos
y yo una muñeca tiesa
con nalgas naranjas
el crotón es de
Madagascar the parade
unstable as dimes
ya, ya encima de la
guagua tomo a Tomas
como camello
this eyebrow is select, unlike
divots, a womanizer
is a box of jars
que lastima
ser manatí y a veces
cruzar la calle
Ricky Ricardo is my Bedazzled Mom
I’m an idiot implant
un disparate
in a three room home
***
just as I thought a bunch
of cement-snatchers
barging into my
fireplace
you’ve told
me lots of crazy
stories in your
life but this is
the craziest
a violet smoking robe the
pucker of applause
they clap for your ass
stuck in a heavy
material bucket hairy
Cubans in love
your frowzy pendulum
in John Wayne’s heart
as whited-out as a condo
and fast double-sided
like beating
is my footprint
amazing
keep my career
boatmen
is that my pocketbook
on your head what
penmanship laugh
into orange head
we the island come out of
trouble every time
por QUÉ por QUÉ esta mujer
siempre forma algo and you say
he probably didn’t say
woopdy-doo don’t go around
calling me no more
my slap-stick double tongue
it’s the devil of leaving you
the oaf I’m the yelling oaf
the straight-haired one
that’s plenty ‘scuse for me
can you fill the
tub with chocolate so
we can be on with our lives
in another place
another year
it is Febreeary before
winter ends
que cómico te parece
yo ir de un árbol
al otro como un mono
the baby is coming into
how tough the money is
what if I wear the apron
this month people I place
stay put in my
corner-store I’d be a lamb
for you
Batista is the mustache
agency’s pbx operator
I want to
dance with you
in the same
design
I’m a dipper
from way back
in levity
it’s like a volcano
and a broom
blue ridicule
it is not a
myth that I have
upset Lucy
it is categorical
ginormous couch is pregnant
forget about me
my father
eats roast beef
I’m a rainbow
roll but
am definitely not
a baby at the coast
muchacho y también
estoy en tu banda
me and my boys
are dominos in suits
Lucy’s my interior
reporter
in Havana
the reason for action
is like marrow
slinking across
the conveyer belt
is a bedazzled turd
high-speed
my wife wraps it
in white blankets
and donates it to the church
is this really all
my three cameras
can put together
I have come so far to
be left here in the living room
or with little pollitos
Fred’s love-affair
with waistlines
my out-of-stock
dormitory
I have one
bed and you
have another
that is how the
ocean should be too
I’m not even the cousin
of a boat-lifter but I met
one when I was dizzy
on a Saturday night
they call me Cuban Pete
I’m the king of the rumba beat
when I play the maracas
everything goes
chick-chiky boom
chick-chiky boom