Ode to Spanish Harlem

Rainbows cascading on
asphalt from plumes of
droplets,

Congas playing a simple
penetrating rhythm, salsa
in the air dancing in the
street,

Skin tones that go from
white to black and every
shade in between,

Ivory's colliding into each
other, while old men speak
politics,

Eyes hidden behind floral
curtains, as the intruders of
life come with their flashing
lights,

Arroz con huevos frito's,
breakfast delight,
Arroz con leche, the poor
man's steak,

Running manhole to manhole,
while cars come down the
street,

My heart is Puerto Rican,
but I,
I live Newyorican!