by William Aarnes
persona sin valor
I like to imagine
a Puerto Rican mother
who, despite herself, caught
one of those rolls
of paper towel
tossed into the crowd
with utter contempt.
She’s kept it, the plastic
wrapper still intact,
atop her refrigerator,
a trophy to remind her
what the word useless—
inútil—means.
Some day, she hopes—
ella espera!—
she’ll feel free
to ball it up,
hoja tras hoja sucia,
and light a fire
to celebrate—
por fin! por fin!—
the tosser’s loss.
William Aarnes lives in Manhattan.