© 2023 by MCLA Spires. 

Arnold Still Waits

March 5, 2018

The boy in Venezuela, wiser than his years, learning 

to draw from the twisted skulls of his father’s 

tattoo parlor. His hope burns bright blue.

 

Shacked up inside, safe from his peers smashing 

Buenos Aires. Shattered-

his family strewn across two Americas. 

He waits for the day he’s learned enough 

to come to the States and say 

“Adios Presidente”

 

He floods the chatroom, 

his lofty goals almost seem attainable 

with his optimism. No task is too large 

until he starts creating, struggling under 

the weight of his own ambition like an ant 

who took a leaf intended for a bigger bug.

 

And though we may never meet; 

I will carry that dream, in part 

because he’s too naïve to see he needs 

help. I want to blow that leaf and its little pilot 

across the ocean to a place 

big enough for his dreams.

 

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