Vol. 8 No. 5 1941 - page 383

• A Cuban patriot.
POEMS
and on the table
one fried fish
spattered with burning
scarlet sauce,
a little dish
of hominy grits
and four pink tissue–
paper roses.
Also I have
hung on a hook
an old French horn
re-painted with
aluminum paint.
I play each year
in the parade
for Jose Marti.*
At night you'd think
my house abandoned.
Come closer. You
can see and hear
the writing-paper
lines. of light
and the voices of
my radio
singing flamencos
in between
the lottery numbers.
When I move
I take these things
and no more, from
my shelter from
the hurricane.
383