The Cats of Old San Juan (three poems)
First published in Indiana Review Winter 2021
The Cats of Old San Juan (I’ve come…)
I’ve come to my home country for the first time and it is not my home and is not a country.
I thought I would wait for family to show me around but then there was no more family left.
*
So I am a tourist and will do tourist things.
I will gawk and drink and sunbathe on the rocks by the water.
I will walk down streets like I belong there.
When I walk outside the tourist path security guards will tell me with an eyebrow ya basta.
*
My partner is with me. They will watch me be a tourist. They will encourage and discourage me as is their prerogative.
We gush and bicker by turns. We are more tired than we admit. We love each other very much.
The sign says watch out for sewage but people swim anyway.
*
It’s Christmas and around here Christmas lasts for weeks.
The Cats of Old San Juan (The cats…)
The cats of Old San Juan are not happy.
They bathe on the rocks by the sea.
At night they bathe in night.
The Cats of Old San Juan (Back in New York…)
Back in New York we forget to tip the cabbie. He smiles
with pursed lips like he’s seen it before. It’s not cold but it’s
winter. I don’t remember much else. Attention
dissolves to the normal. Warm absence of work.
Warm absence of care. Go out to eat. Celebrate
the end of celebrating. Wring a new year from the old.
Our roommate’s cats regard us warmly. Had been sleeping
in your slippers. Patrolled the rooms for city mice. People say
cat life is easy. It’s not. Why are you jumping at ghosts,
kitty? Why are you jumping at ghosts human?
The Cats of Old San Juan are on social media. You can
adopt one today. They will be at your door in Boston
in Miami in Sacramento. They don’t belong there but
neither do you. The cats are warm cats.
They keep away winter.
Let them colonize your heart
is a windy island. A rocky pass by the sea. A safe place to hide
(yourself).