Salsa at the Yacht Club

by Brent Lucia

Like a freedom you think you have, crawling from the ocean.
Custom tailored shirts are the curtains of the dance floor.
All the sons and daughters sway like trees,
To Smokey’s Tears of a Clown.

Marjorie smiles towards the shore; a kiss to the ocean.
And Congo drums sink in a dream. Brave the sea floor.
That Marjorie said could still exist,
In melting waves with the other.

Brent Lucia was born and raised in Massachusetts but has been living in New York City for the past ten years. He is currently an adjunct lecturer at City College of New York and has been teaching both literature and writing courses for the past four years.  His poetry and short stories have appeared in such literary journals as BlazeVox12, Five Quarterly, The Promethean and Shot Glass Journal.

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