Verano en la Ciudad by Evan Boone

another curious summer reaching its hands into

the canalito.

they had told me it was

beautiful with dry sunsets

all of the simple mornings aligned

we peeked out on cool evenings

those wilting summer days carved us

into anything we wanted

a thousand cold tereres in our throats

beating veins racing through the outskirts,

through the center when it woke up again,

every evening

we were the canal grande with its dirty current

and our dreams of wading in its brown entity

with tennis shorts and tank tops like

boys from barrio Nuevo

we were a thousand rhythms mixed

at three in the morning

some party with a 40 peso entrance fee

the same as the others

when they ended we woke the city up

six am in the center, water bought from

stands, toast and pizza and cookies,

dancing in the round-a-bout

i was shameless

shouting oasis songs from

park benches as the city watched

we were unafraid

until march reigned in

with cool breezes