Latinized Jazz

Mils-

Sometime
In Spanish Harlem
Sometime in the Bronx
The boys were in for the night
And silence filled their space
At one point they heard her voice
Almost in unison
They jumped out of their beds
A put a clear clean glass to the wall
To hear her better
But the sound was faint
Spanish boys
Spilled onto New York City sidewalks
Peaking through windows
Every now and then
voyeuristically seeing Harlem
in a tight embrace with Jazz
Spanish speaking boys
Heard her moan

Somewhere Cuba
Somewhere in Puerto Rico
Central and South America
The heard her
Brazil
Inhaled her exhales
Fused them into Bosa Nova
And they all studied her curves
Taking her home in memory.

Knowing she did not belong to them

They sat at the foot of their beds and
Tried to remember every detail
Began to imagine what she’d sound like in their arms
How her hips would sway if her sound mixed
With Latin rhythm
They could see her standing there.
Her eyes told epics
And her lips
Let loose spirits
And they heard her
From next door
And invited her in to stay
Latin Jazz would let loose her hair and
Conjure spirits as she walked
And rubber necks would turn to see her
And watch her morph into something new
In every town she conquered.
She jazzed up a latin sound across the country
crossed some oceans
And returned for a swim in the gulf of mexico
Not to far from her birthplace but across the way
Where she crossed the border and lay her head to rest there for
the night.
And Mexican boys heard her sound
came out to listen and took her sound home
And imagined what she would sound like in their arms
What she’d look like in mariachi cloths
And they loved her from next door.
Years later,
Word hit the streets
That she was moaning a painful moan
Voice muffled by the walls of her one room house
In a federal FEMA Trailer
Wounded by catastrophy
Her sound was forced to scatter and at times forced to sit silent
forever
But she sounded the trumpet in a dizzy wail that day
And in a Sandoval High pitch
Latin boys responded
And Latin boys on both America’s cried for her
And wanted to rescue her
Venezuela and Cuba
Harlem and The Bronx drove truckloads for her to eat and wear
Venezuela and Cuba reached their hand out
and were turned away
France, Saudi Arabia, Sri Lanka also headed the call
But it was Latin boys who crossed deadly borders
Wet backs ready to leave their life behind
And sit at her bedside for life and care for her
Mexican boys rushed to her side and cleaned her face and
brushed her hair
And promised to love her
And still they’re pushed away.
America wants to clean her up themselves they say
Make her well again they say
But America was not there on the day after the storm
Latin Boys doing dirty jobs
Home attendants to an ailing lover
And they vow to stay
Even when not wanted
Because they heard her sound
And imagined what she would sound like in their arms
And they promise to stay
And they stayed