It’s lunch time in the city
and the service is church. Community of giraffes gathering at the shore.
We deep bow our heads
to drink. Gracias hermano whispered the hunger and it was met.
It’s lunch time in the city and the line is winding down the block in wind the mouths are in a river that leads out the door
the mouth of the river stacks red trays Pure white napkins for face grace
and they pass as a message.
And a love song offers you a tong of french fries
and a long day asks
you want one or two hotdogs?
and a prayer seeks to know what bread you prefer
and a birthday party asks you
do you want some cake?
Wow, how coconut shavings
husk a city of grins on days like today. I’m caribbean, the ocean admits. I hear.
It’s lunch time in the city
and here I am, having appeared
at the end of this filling procession. Offering myself. In need of being useful to God. In the waves
of dozens of cups congregating a table.
Here I am, for you as water, water, water, water, water
Originally from Milwaukee, WI, and a graduate of the University of Wisconsin, Karl Iglesias’ work can be read in The Florida Review, The Breakbeat Poets Vol 4. LatiNext, The Brooklyn Review, The Hong Kong Review, and The Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day, among others.
Interested in submitting to the 365 Collection? Complete your submission here during the last two weeks of National Poetry Month.