Rachael Inciarte is the author of What Kind of Seed Made You (Finishing Line Press, 2021). A Best of the Net nominee, her poems appear in Juked, Poetry Northwest, Normal School, Radar Poetry and others. She lives in California.
(Venezuela, 2019)
see the boys on the rock, brown bodies grabbing
the sunlight, ribcages cupping their guts
holding in hunger
their nails are silver scales, knuckles sharp and fine
wire wraps their fingers like promise rings like promise
tomorrow they might be fed
see their hooks glinting off the water, pins and knives and
if it is true that necessity is the mother of invention then
it is also true that necessity is the mother of orphans
watch the boys how they fix their gaze to the birds
the pelican's beak is a compass rose is an arrow is
a spoonful in an empty mouth
once there were umbrellas on the beach
once these huts had cook fires had things to cook
over the flames smell the echo of hot grease burning on coals
there were whole fish grilled on plates, their eyes scooped out
dressed in tajadas and salsa rosada, the only fish left
are those the boys pull from the ocean scrawny as themselves
see them study the waves a text a bible most holy
water lapping waves, tongues wet with desire and
calling each other like happy gulls
do not misunderstand them only a small part
is hollow, but their eyes are over the horizon
as full as the sea
This poem describes the return of Venezuelan residents to coastal towns, where people now go fishing in the wake of massive food shortages.