For Mariposa and Puerto Rico On Their Wedding Day
Your brilliant, hot, heroic kind of love.
I have enough on my hands,
married to just one man,
and now Mariposa
is marrying her homeland.
You don’t have to get along.
You don’t have to hold hands skipping down the street
with a leap in your heartbeat.
You only have to show up day after day,
not even at your best.
Tell me, Mariposa,
why you have chosen this mate
as your lifelong date…?
Tell me how deep it goes
the love deep down in your toes
the blood that boils and jumps and pumps and circulates
and runs ancestrally through
the tunnels of time that are you.
While Puerto Rico coos, you’re mine.
Your love,
marrying the island
marrying where the Atlantic Ocean
hits its lips
The Mona Passage turns its hips
The Caribbean sea…
I know how harsh rain water can be
how it kills photos
the unassuming tear drops of God
and clouds erasing the lines of images
that were meant to be
what’s kept of a memory
dripping down the water erasing a photo
of what would be your grandmother
Your cousin Juan
on the beach in a bathing suit
yourTiti Mara getting married
in front of the Catholic church
water,gone, ghosts, roots
You will replace your husband’s
lost photographs
with the deepest love and permanent laughs
you can tell your lover who all these faces are and were
by standing there with your hair
your nose your eyes your flare
Showing them that you care
This is the most solemn part of marriage
Being there for the loss
Foundation while your lover is tossed
Filling the dark with your light
Bringing them back to the fight
Reminding them to dance
Bringing them back to romance
You will marry all I know
Of dear Puerto Rico
My limited Nuyorican experience on Loisaida and in el barrio
Where sweet people speak to me in Spanish assuming
There’s something in me blooming
Or that I’m related to your husband or wife, Mariposa
Now I can say, I’m not Puerto Rican
But I’m related to you through marriage because of
Mariposaaaa!
Marry the dominoes,
marry Bimbi and the family on 4th St
everybody holding down the building
Marry the accent I don’t have
Marry the time I ran into Reverend Pedro dressed all in black
at the bus stop in Inwood
Marry Carmen at the Nuyorican
Marry Miguel’s insults
Marry the times we smoked and choked and kikied beneath
the golden tent in the mariposa garden at Eugene’s
Marry Ruthy's flat iron and her endless generosity
Marry all the scenes of Rita Moreno that I rehearsed over and
over in a mirror as a kid in New Orleans
Marry my dramaturge and all the best wisdom given to me
by a Puerto Rican man on Avenue D named Tee.
Mariposa, I approve,
this marriage is the move.
Marry the generosity that only humility and loss can offer
The going out of your way to make you smile that day
Marry the way Lytza stayed up till 6 am fixing my headpieces
for my play seeing the sun that day
Going out of her way
The way Sandy sewed up my ear on her dining room table,
you hear?
Marry Sandra Rivas’s rice and beans
Mariposa’s collard greens
Marry the sand and the ocean,
Marry the pain and all pretense
Marry the torn the trees and the refrigerators left open on
the street
With all their stinking meat
Your lover will never be able to leave you
Because your lover needs you
Marry the batteries and the bundles, the mosquitos and the
history, the tans the browns the smiles
The love that’s yours for miles
My man is only 6 feet tall, that’s all, but you, you’ve got them all…
You don’t have to play house
hiding like a mouse
You don’t have to
betty crocker bake
and shake
and cook with the look
in a kitchen nook
You only have to let the wind find you where you are
Tell me about your path to this love
And I’ll tell you about mine
Meanwhile the traffic lights turn green and red
The politics decay,
You and your lover find a bed
The rest will find its way
Happy wedding day….