June 25, 2021

90 Miles To Cuba



90 miles might as well be to the moon
streets paved with dirt that Hemingway once traversed

one rainy windy afternoon in old havana 

typical tropical temperatures 

humidity hung in the air like an enemy of the people 

many dark eyed women with long black hair

floral skirts wrapped around their cinnamon churro legs

got hungry so I wanted to make some banana bread

the old world recipe

visited a few bodegas —- not one banana to be found 

classic buildings though that could speak volumes 

and teach an architectural class at universidad de la habana

old cars - oldsmobiles pontiacs buicks real vintage 

pastel shades of metal floating by

found el morro castle and guanabacoa harbor though

at the harbor, sat on an old cracked concrete wall

che guevera might have sat on sixty years ago

bare feet dangling above liquid murkiness

the water lapping ambitionlessly against it

looking at old fishing boats manned by old men 

with gray beards and crooked backs

smoking cigarettes barely wrapped 

traipsed to the art museum among the markets

sad shades of mostly depressing brown paintings 

painted by artists high on sugar cane stimulation 

went down to the coffee shop 

to have some artistic stimulation of my own

a nice cuban cigar

a muy delicioso taza de café



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