after Pedro Pietri

‍

Crickets, coquis corrobórate. Mezzo.
Alto. Tenor. Chemical coladas are pumped

like stale petroleum from fracked rocks.
The joy of combustion at five dollars a pop.

Surf shops collide with Desecheo Island.
Silicon Valley Spanish stings like chlorine,

an ill refuge from portfolios and defaulted
mortgages seared on grills that serve no native

dish. The esclavos fed-exed to Co-op City,
Humboldt Park, Kensington, where nature

is a cable program shot from a satellite dish
in twenty minute cycles and sunsets come

with membership fees. Coconuts, cangrejos
are gathered and stacked. For tonight there

will be a fiesta in the hacienda overlooking
Culebra, but the residents did not receive

an invitation, Coral contorts into ads for cell
phones. Panorama in flux. Coffee plantation

permutated into port. Cracked conch serves
as chrysalis for research station. A naval base

etched into islet. Yucca fields tailored into
spa resort. The new natives will boast of job

creation and toast to how the quality of life
has improved for the mosquitos who now

feast on sweet meat of plump and primped
immigrants blown in from el norte.