Poetry: “A Song of Revival in New York City, While My Father is Asleep” by Alan Chazaro

A Song of Revival in New York City, While My Father is Asleep

Last night, I chased jungle birds and found

my way through a crooked lens. Tomorrow,

I promise I will unbury my fingers

from yesterday’s losses. A truth: I’m beginning

to feel slightly unspiraled

as these flowers go by, aren’t you?

I’m arrested and unable to rest. Something

like a flooded subway station.

Something similar to my iPhone

with a cracked screen. Confession: I want more

than Travis Scott’s limited Nike releases

at Flight Club. I want an intimate cartography,

a mapping of irregular terrain. This is a matter

of fact. We are a portrait of a skyline-

in-progress. I need you to know: where there is

summer, there is also snow. I’m speechless

when I have booze-juice in my fancy cocktail

glass. That’s a fancy way of saying

nothing, and everything. Meanwhile, this country

is shrinking with each breath,

our masks barely on. Yes:

I care about the future as much as I wonder

about the señora selling mangos and strawberries

on a corner in Jackson Heights. Suggestion: Let us

return to our Pacific shores. Let us dream

about magnificent victories in our

thundersleep. Do not wake

yet. I am still here, holding on.

About Alan Chazaro

Alan Chazaro headshot

Alan Chazaro is the author of This Is Not a Frank Ocean Cover Album (Black Lawrence Press, 2019), Piñata Theory (Black Lawrence Press, 2020), and Notes from the Eastern Span of the Bay Bridge (Ghost City Press, 2021). He is a graduate of June Jordan’s Poetry for the People program at UC Berkeley and a former Lawrence Ferlinghetti Fellow at the University of San Francisco. He writes for SFGATE, KQED, Datebook, Oaklandside, 48Hills, and other publications, and is on Twitter and IG being a useless pocho millennial @alan_chazaro.