Tornadoes arrive in New York, Coney Island
roars in destiny but not destination and that’s the problem –
things bubble up in a dreamland with absolutely nothing
to celebrate except a temporary sentiment
that collapses in a fit of thunderous applause
– and if it does,
maybe I am myself: a sunken pier
jettisoning into a space that exists in tandem to reality;
dreams do not
dredge, and to deal with discrepancies
remember that scrutinizing the universe
is not a logical traipsing down the boardwalk;
in dreams above the water,
nothing can float away.
Kevin Grijalva is a Southern California native living in Brooklyn. His work has appeared in decomP magazinE, Radius, and The Catalonian Review.