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Slate

by Robert Fernandez
Illustration by Luis Pinto

Slate

Robert Fernandez
6 Snaps

 

I rack                                                                                    but as usual
the deck.                                                                              orange flames
Break                                                                                    in pin-stripes,
the rack.                                                                               BBQs,
Bust                                                                                      shiny ribs.
the wreck.                                                                            The soil
My aunt                                                                                goes down
used to date                                                                          only so
this guy                                                                                 far, then
who ran                                                                                 rock.
dive boats
for tourists.
He would pet
moray eels
and feed
barracudas
ballyhoo
from between
his teeth.
I tell you this
because
in hell
we eat
silvery
barracuda
roe on toast
and because
hell’s wrecks
are all
as smooth
as china.
That’s what
you get
when fire
washes your
bones unceasingly.
I wanted to say
something fun,



This poem is supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts.

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