2 poems by Juanita Rey

A Fix is Really a Song

Only the man says Hola!
A smile is stuck on his face to dry.
I flip him off like a bottle top.

I could open my mouth
and tell him he’s half-pregnant
but I prefer to swallow the sound
where it can spend some quality time
in my uterus.

The man’s love 
is an empty jar, an opened box.
Mine is a home 
for the ocean and the islands.

Of course, I’m a fulana
bearing someone else’s baby.
But every day is a song,
the uglier I get. 


She’s already picked out 
the dress she will wear
when her sickness recedes,
her health returns.

Of course, she’s changed 
her mind once or twice,
giving up on the floral
summer skirt,
the one bedecked with
roses and butterflies.

Something autumnal will do,
its hues more hushed,
the reds and browns 
a reward for weeks,
for months, of paleness.

For now, she’s wrapped 
in a nightdress.
She undoes a button.
Then does it up again.

JUANITA REY is a Dominican poet. Her work has been published in  Pennsylvania English, Opiate Journal, Petrichor Machine and Porter Gulch Review.

%d bloggers like this: