San Diego County Shark Attack
When we switch on the HDTV
comparing and contrasting
the information garnered
from our iPhones and Galaxies,
sometimes there’s news
of attacks in La Jolla,
in San Diego county
where the sharks love
the ladies floating in the sun,
with coconut oils streaming
iridescent colors
off their burnished brown skin
into the warm, blue
bioluminescent waters.
Sometimes these news reports
go far as Louisville, Kentucky,
and once my beautiful Mamí
gets ahold of them
a Mobius strip of a prayer
chain, beginning
with los Españoles, takes place—
in the form of phone calls
from Mamí and Papí,
and friends from their native land,
plus my sisters, and their school
classrooms and lunch ladies,
of course, followed by los Latinos
from Cuba, Colombia, and Perú:
César, Antonio, Antonia, Gloria,
Lucho, Luz, and Lourdes—
somewhere at this point
I’m thinking of food—
then there are the major generals
of the St. Raphael Catholic Church,
nestled between
the gorgeous townships
of Wellington and Strathmoor,
the little old women with bee-hive
blue hair styles who religiously
attend Eucharistic adoration,
and offer God to the world
with themselves in the bargain.
They are passing the news to Jesus
that I’m dying of a shark attack
with a 20% chance of survival,
limbs hanging by shards of muscle,
while my poor, poor children
who came along for Spring Break
are missing large swaths
of skin from brushing
against the shiver that attacked
us in 3 feet of water.
Sometimes prayer chains
are vehicles to keep
those best concerned
in the know
about every single thing
you do, as follows:
“Well you know about
Fulanito, he’s got el diabetes,
and he’s—did you know about
he married Fulanita,
and the things she fed him?
Que asco!—anyway he had el Covi
tres veces este año, three times
this year, que pasooo?
and Fulanitaaaa! Ay Dios!
She was working the Pep Boys
before he got sick, siiiiiiii mi hija—
and their babies! Dios mio!
Just don’t forget to pray for them.
So little—
Did you know he was bleeding
out his you-know-whaaaaa
for twelve weeks after they told him
he could leave the hospital?
Hostia! Te lo puedes imaginar?
Can you imagine?”
6 thoughts on "San Diego County Shark Attack"
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This is powerful verse … connecting dots and extending the ideas.
This—>
“a Mobius strip of a prayer
chain …”
Kevin
Thanks Kevin
I know these people! Mine carry casseroles and literally drive from house to house. News is carried in many vehicles-some reliable-some not.
Aren’t they universal? 😎
This poem is several levels of fun. There’s a lot of delightful language too; it’s hard to know where to start. I love “where the sharks love/the ladies floating in the sun” and “the like old women with bee-hive blue hair. The cultural refences ad color, fun and knowledge. Very enyoyable!
thank you Linda my friend.