maelynslavik

I was never allowed in the basement, 

there was always a lock on the door,

and my parents avoided telling me why.

Great parenting strategy, 

not even making up a lie for me,

Mi portóncito

My little gate that swings me across the same arc across the tile patio floor;

the cold metal gray bars pressed to my face, hanging on to

Mi portóncito- the one taking me home

I can hear the party still going 

starting in the kitchen,

spilling into the dining room 

and out onto the deck 

I hear the sound of fizzy champagne filling crystal glasses

Say you're a president.

Not a king.

If that's true then what's happening in Venezuela? 

You removed a ruthless dictator, yes,

but you just replaced him with another.

Being a dreamer is hard, for all of us. All the authors, poets, musicians, and artists.

For those who aren’t any of these let me explain it for you.

Since I could eat, I have loved eating. Since I could open

my mouth and shriek for sustenance I have been in love with food.

And it has always loved me back -

tacos, grilled cheese, steak, sushi, matzo ball soup,