Carrying an Eighteen-Wheeler Refrain

“… here I hold your dream in my poem.” — Rae Armantrout

As he stands with fedora shadows,
we dream, listening wide awake,
gripping our souls with voces
hermosas resounding from
his microphone we are all
encantando as this poet lights
up echoing rhymes, repetition
ritmo, oscuro, tierra—breathless
our ojos y oídos following
as his words suave like jazz
musica his grinning keys
leaving us trembling with sparks
of enlightenment, under these luces,
he ignites our beautiful voices
simmering with anticipation
hanging on all his palabras, teaching
us how to make the salsa, savoring all
our idiomas y colores, he shares
the juice of his papaya poemas,
the fruits of his lengua
Mexicana. He speaks gigante,
fluidly carrying an eighteen-wheeler
refrain, from the stage. Even though
he’s a different shade, I can feel
el poeta, he speaks like me, soñando
in metaphors, he even sounds like me,
with his hands in motion, swimming
in imaginación—his voz sounds
hermoso, echoing stanzas, ponderosa,
with his cuatro ojos, glasses radiating
fuerza from his fedora shadow, we feel
him beaming, he leaves us singing
our vida; believing palabras, echoing
our beautiful voices—he loves
glowing poetry.

For Juan Felipe Herrera