Selected Poetry
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Unknown Man
Are you going to haunt the cops who frayed your body with bullets Unknown Man Are you returning one last time to this World To scream your rage To make them understand Your homeland was a distant wish Your nightly pillow a swollen slab of rain-soaked wood Your pennies could never be used In the service of tanning booths or trendy hair cuts Unknown Man Are you wandering On the streets of Stockes Unknown Man Lost Bewildered Seeking answers to our cruelty Why are the neighbors arguing over tanning booths and hair salons Will you appear in their dreams Or walk the rooms of their loved ones Will you return to our World one last time Unknown Man To convince us You were someone worthy Copyright © 2016 by Nancy Mercado The Dead Where I lay the dream of following myself in your soul —Julia De Burgos I face the universe When I speak to the dead I lay as they do In their coffins My body upright Revealed to the wide expanse Of the firmament There I speak with mother In some brightly-lit hallway She says she is going To sleep with father His voice resonating from inside A black room she enters I often speak to the dead They share their days with me Provide advice They have no wings No halos No emitting light from within They’re people just like you and like me Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Mercado Mom’s Phone Call My mother called today Only to express her worry Only to share her nightmare Only to warn me Of some impending doom Only to say she begs nightly To her Lord in the heavens For my protection Only to confirm her love Copyright © 2016 by Nancy Mercado |
Catcalls to My Brain
No 1980’s tight young ass to pounce on anymore No smooth skin to assault anymore No frightened little girl to follow Down cold shitty Lower East Side streets anymore Now-a-days the boys catcall my intellect Corner me in conference rooms Universities In restaurants ¡¿Oye mami cuántos libros has leído?! ¡No sabes na bruta! Where did you graduate from mami?! Your university degree means nada nena! They attempt to inflict Injuries with blank pages To drown me out Under piles of exclusions To erase my existence To whittle me down To a stub N o t h i n g Silence. These days my catcallers Are the intelligentsia Postmodern jeering elitists Hyperbolic hipsters swooping in to take charge Our modern-day land grabbers The white settlers of the information age Revolutionary revisionists My cat-calling boys come with females in tow these days Sold out dames of trendiness Fast talking fools Puking memorized conceptual hullabaloos Living delusions They are lost souls Existing in their own holograms of fame Convinced masses in the world Know their name Believe their immortality Don’t my cat callers understand They have yet to be born? Copyright © 2016 by Nancy Mercado Reasons for Living with You I lived with you To discover What destruction Looked like When you discarded me I laughed in Pouring hail Crossed streets In the middle Of nights Weary of time In empty buildings I watched From outside The flicker Of candlelight Through strange windows Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Mercado |
Selected Poetry on Line
Selected Poetry Videos
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