Bailey Cohen is a queer Ecuadorian-American poet studying at NYU. The founder of Alegrarse, the Associate Editor for Frontier Poetry, and a Best of the Net nominee, his work appears in or is forthcoming from publications such as Boulevard, Raleigh Review, [PANK], Up the Staircase Quarterly, Boiler Journal, and elsewhere. Bailey can be found across most social media platforms @BaileyC213. He loves everyone Latinx.
Bailey Cohen
Self-Portrait as Yurico Atop a Freight Train
Dull & unresponsive, las estrellas
no pueden darme nada. Mama
always said you gotta light your own
battles, so I did. I have packed all of her
necklaces. In sunlight, you can see the rust,
& how beautiful it is, to see the bronzing
of once gold skin. Like my mother,
I used to be so beautiful. Now, I smoke
just to hear the rattle. I breathe just to feel
the smoke. Imagine having el mismo nariz
as my father. Imagine being able to recognize
la cara of my father. If I knew such a thing
as a gentle man, I am sure that is what I would want
to be. Mi madre dice que si el papa believes
in God, el niño will believe in the father.
Like a God, I trace gold chains in the sky.
Like a God, I leave & then come back.
And she’s right, too! because how you gonna
believe in God when your own father’s been a myth?
On nights like tonight, Ma, the sky looks so black.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.