October 27th, 2012
Ed Galing
RAISING THE ROOF
they’re up there
on my roof
against the hot
summer sun;
seven of ’em,
tearing down the
old shingles,
a motley crew
if ever i saw
one;
as i look up from
down below they remind
me of steel workers,
as they build a scaffold,
inch by inch,
climbing up to the
chimney,
down come the old
shingles,
softly they thud
among the bushes below,
they’re efficient,
short, brownskinned,
hard workers, bare in the
blaze.
i pull out my harmonica
on impulse, grin, and begin
to play a favorite tune,
LA KUKURACHA…LA
KUKURACHA…
they stop in mid air,
almost startled, they grin
down at me and begin to do
their dance,
up on the roof,
all seven of ’em, keeping
time with my song,
bringing down the
roof.
–from Rattle #22, Winter 2004
I have a minimum requirement: In novels, essays, articles, poetry – please, please check the spelling of the foreign words you use before immortalizing them through publication by whatever means. These misspellings are sloppy. Have nothing to do with ‘poetic licence’.
La Cucaracha (for example, and this is a simple one)
But it does have to do with poetic license. The misspelling here is a layer of the poem.