Laughter is Triumph (Willever)

the bodega across the street
will ever live as a star as a sun,
as a place for 40s, lotto, and laughs
with old Puerto Rican men.

they don't worry about Oxford commas
or bullshit about blocked blogs,
they just play dominoes
and give the gringo shit.

que hiciste a noche, they yell,
unaware of how loud they are,
but again not giving a shit
about stuff like that.

I tell them the story
about how I got into a fight
after the folk show in Brooklyn
and they laugh.

they also ask what the hell is a folk show
and they curse Brooklyn which
makes me love them more,
so I get in on the dice game and lose ten bucks.

adios, primos, I say with a laugh,
and let my dead grandfather play the bongos
over the old radio with Moncho Lena
singing about the lost love of Carmencita.