Poem by Ariel Francisco (Dominican Republic/ Guatemala/ USA)

Published in The Ofi Press issue 46 

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS

Sell them on the corner of 135th and Douglas

in green netted sacks for ten dollars a dozen,

hold them in each hand like heavy boleadoras.

Learn to hate the rain, the way it sends you

to cover under the bus stop like a grounded

child damned to his room, each drop a lost sale.

Learn to hate the green lights that urge

drivers to pass you by without a second glance.

Learn to hate even the thought of lemonade

as you sweat and sweat in the bowels of summer

under the relentless sun you’ve learned to hate

so well, the way it leans its tremendous weight

all day long into the back of your neck.