After the Revolution

AFTER THE REVOLUTION
—for Richard Blanco

It was in the early Sixties—
And here they all were
Spread out from Miami
All the way to New Orleans

Such a loud and nervous—
Bunch of exiled young Cubans
Speaking Spanish so very
Quickly nobody could
Keep up with them

Exiles of Castro’s revolution—
Children of all the wealthy
Havana elite class: doctors,
Lawyers, politicians, spawn
Of gone Batista fat cat days

This was Latino diaspora—
Arenas, Servo Sarduy, 
Even Manuel Puig and
Kiss of the Spider Woman
Exiled gay writers that
Were more like me than
I thought back then

My exile was slower—
About as revolutionary
As a slug track of mucous
In a Garden of Str8t Eden
From which I’d been cast
In my “gringo” diaspora

I was born in bondage—
Raised in a pig sty of
Bigots and exiled the
Minute I started lisping,
Swishing, flipping my
Nelly weak wrists…