Jorge Teaches the Preterit Tense
Saturday night, a pub crawl with a group
of Latin American exchange students.
We stroll along the Savannah River,
cobbled streets, neon flashing
in puddles and dark currents.
Inside Luna Loca I dance techno beat salsa
with Jorge. Guapo, fuerte, de Venezuela.
It doesn’t matter that he wears three gold chains
or leaves his shirt unbuttoned a few too many holes.
A warm arm around my waist, he kisses me.
His tongue tastes like ice cubes, rum and Coke.
Hmm, me gustaba, I tell him. I was liking that.
No, you say me gustó, it pleased me,
and he kisses me again.
***
My prompt is up at Read Write Poem – to pick some words from one subject area to write about another. I started with geographical terms and grammar terms, but discarded all those words except in the title. The other idea behind this poem came from Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides, which suggests that we write an Outsider poem.
Balanced On the Edge 
Hot and atmospheric, C, despite the three gold chains and open shirt.
Your prompt is such a goodie. I’d like to try it. And the term “stretchy metaphors”. Did you make that up? Love it.
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hehe! This reminds me of salsa dancing in Denver! Those men could DANCE! Hope you are well. Sorry it’s been so long. I’m very busy, and in a bit of a rut, in a number of ways.
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¡Tan caliente, poeta aguacate! 🙂 It absolutely sizzles and your language brings the scene to life. I love it!
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¡Gracias, amiga! 🙂
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🙂
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You bring this scene to life and it’s ‘hot’.
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Ha, lovely, really cool, perfectly weighted and really enjoyable……
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Juicy words! Very evocative.
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this brings back memories of studying spanish in college. my professor was puerto rican and promised us he was teaching us the real spanish you can use out in the world, not the archaic stuff they use in spain. (he said this with a great sense of pride in his language and culture. i loved that attitude.) he drove an old, loud, black corvette convertible. he had dance parties at his house with latin food made by him and his wife. oh — and beer. but no tongue. hmmm. i never got kissed by any boys there. i should have studied with your crew! 🙂
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Yum yum…rum and coke tongue! I love your poem. You capture the scene so well that I can hear the music and conversation. Great prompt!
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