Puente que nace
Puente que muere
A pie el puente te apoya
Que aprecio tan divino
Pero andando en el
Se demora lo lógico
De qué tal vez el puente es solo un camino a tu propia isla?
Como una buena amiga,
Las amistades parecen que nunca terminan
El puente como una nueva solicitud
Nunca se mira llegar
Pero no es puente de coche que está amortizado
Ni una mente que está elaborando una estrategia
Esta abstente
Como una obra sin fondos
El puente mismo se destruye
Poco a poco
Tal vez porque huye de un desalojo
Una jornada de verdad
Que el puente se hizo de algo impetuoso
J.Mar
Author: J.Mar
I was born and raised in Kern County in an unincorporated area of Kern, CA. My parents moved there in the 90s to make a living as farm workers. Watching them barter their bodies, homelands, and family for a chance at the “American Dream” has caused me to reflect. My writing here is largely the unceremonious unpacking and repacking of what was won and lost in this exchange.
My version of the dream consists of completing a PhD in Public Policy. I currently study public finance, public participation, and remittances in Mexico. I am also generally interested in the Latinx public finance experience.
I’ve learned to be cautiously optimistic about the future.
Lastly, I love plants and cleaning is a freeing ritual to me.
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JMar 