biscayne

By Jorge Elias, used by CreativeCommons License

biscayne boulevard
droops limply
like a warm, soggy towel,

slowly sopping up the foamy water
from the crowded car wash
on a hazy-grey autumn afternoon.

sticky air hangs over 191st street,
thick like molasses,
blending with the truck exhaust

to form a choking, noxious
particulate stew.
familiar tumbadora beats

of a jaunty cuban rumba
drift skyward through
the open windows of a sleek, black camaro,

as a lithe dominican mamasita
hurries to cross biscayne
in the seconds before the light turns green.

sounds of squealing rubber on the hot blacktop,
and muffled engines humming in acceleration,
ascend from the boulevard

to meet the indefinite blue-white
haze above:
miami, friday, 3pm.