Potholes

There is a cemetery  

down the street from where I live

the road to it is shabby and full of potholes

scabs of cement and asphalt have been ripped from it

where nightly dew puddles gather

and sink into the dead earth by noon

tree roots gnarl, breaking sidewalks and cemetery walls

the old gravel comes loose from neglect or overuse

I don’t know which is worse

most mornings

the viejito next door gets up early

lugs his janky wheelbarrow out

(it’s probably as old as him and the street)

and fills the potholes

I don’t know where he gets the dirt

the poet in me likes to think that it’s

from the leftover graves

ashes to ashes and all that

poets are fucking stupid

the asshole in me thinks:

better to fix potholes

than to be sold to Santeros and Brujos

300 pesos for a 10-pound sack

good for a month or so of

amarres and whatever else it is they do on moonless nights

either way

the potholes are empty in a few nights

from trucks and their heavy tires

or

from brujos and their heavy burdens

the soft earth will find a new home

it was never meant to fill cracks in the asphalt

the potholes are empty in a few nights

the viejito will get up at dawn

try his damnedest to fix the street

for the rest of his mornings

till he uses the street one last time

who will I watch then?

or rather

who will watch me?

Richard Hernandez aka Softboi Mumble is a writer from San Diego. He mostly writes love poems with erotic tones and occasionally dips his toes into the existential void.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/softboi_mumble/