PRIESTS OF THESE ATLANTIC TEMPLES
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/258/1/PRIESTS-OF-THESE-ATLANTIC-TEMPLES/Page1.html
Albino Carrillo
Albino Carrillo is an Associate Professor of Poetry and Creative Writing in the English Department of the University of Dayton. His one book is IN THE CITY OF SMOKING MIRRORS, published by the University of Arizona Press. Over the past 21 years, his work has appeared in national literary journals such as The Americas Review, Puerto Del Sol, The Antioch Review, Blue Mesa Review, and Columbia. By Albino Carrillo
Published on 07/10/2004
The swell of mid-atlantic waves is not
an indication of the love I found
out of your reach on the the last pier facing
the annihilating surf. El Morro
still rises like a barnacled scuba diver
PRIESTS OF THESE ATLANTIC TEMPLES
The swell of mid-atlantic waves is not
an indication of the love I found
out of your reach on the the last pier facing
the annihilating surf. El Morro
still rises like a barnacled scuba diver
along the shore here, looking
beyond the small city rising
against the beach. So when we sat to dig
bits of shells from our sandals
we became like any wanderers among
hotels, buffets, casinos where singers
bade us entry for ten American
dollars. The shape of the line in front
of the pink hotel girdling shore?
Like trim Texans from Abeline
there to see the thin winter waterspouts
form in the bay, after the show let out.
Copyright © Albino Carrillo, 2004. All Rights Reserved.
The swell of mid-atlantic waves is not
an indication of the love I found
out of your reach on the the last pier facing
the annihilating surf. El Morro
still rises like a barnacled scuba diver
PRIESTS OF THESE ATLANTIC TEMPLES
The swell of mid-atlantic waves is not
an indication of the love I found
out of your reach on the the last pier facing
the annihilating surf. El Morro
still rises like a barnacled scuba diver
along the shore here, looking
beyond the small city rising
against the beach. So when we sat to dig
bits of shells from our sandals
we became like any wanderers among
hotels, buffets, casinos where singers
bade us entry for ten American
dollars. The shape of the line in front
of the pink hotel girdling shore?
Like trim Texans from Abeline
there to see the thin winter waterspouts
form in the bay, after the show let out.
Copyright © Albino Carrillo, 2004. All Rights Reserved.