Son-in-law good as the best biological,
Lion’s Club president, electrical engineer
graduated from Cold War Puerto Rico
showcase against world Communism,
that colonial courtship he confused
with an engagement in true equality.
We never saw coincided in admiring
that democratic mirage across nautical miles
he believed in his heart he belonged to,
my warnings trashed as leftist garbage.
Pancreatic cancer is not political but,
politicized by this hurricane, his suffering
metastasized across a horizon without power,
water, food, medical attention, la isla
that our generation only knew
dolled up in gowns of industry
stripped to its colonial boniness.
Depressed, for weeks he refused to ingest
a single morsel of disenchanted reality,
no attempt to wrestle from death
more days of poisoned prolonged life.
Did patriotic disappointment shrivel
into doubt he was ever an American,
or did his impartial organism surrender
to the sucking out of life’s spirit?
What I warned him about our equality.