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Vincent Toro

                Belly bronzed bikini wasteland
        of jello buck shots
                keg stands and nights
        that last three days
                        jacuzzi swirl of spray tanned glam
the gleam of soaked shirts and vomit
                            as the spring breakers
                bump stumps bury plastic pints in sand
        littering the boardwalk
                           with pizza grease
They lift their middle fingers to the sun
                        flash their cameras
        tops and gold cards
                        a slick arrhythmia
                bobbing to the monotone
       	of bass heavy dance
                        anthems Funneling
                down their throats
gallons of distilled cane
       	venerating glass bottles
                bearing the name of Captain Morgan was a sunburnt cyclone
                                                                                                famous for plundering
                                                                                                    Panama and for cutting clean
                                                                                    off any finger with a gold
                                                                                                ring on it He could empty
                                                                      a bohio faster than any tsunami could
                                                                                                making sport of torturing
                                                            slaves and puncturing their
                                                                      women He took pleasure in hacking
                                                                                                                off the limbs of village
                                                    children while those he shackled were mining
                                                                                    for his gold These deeds
                                                                      earned him knighthood from the English crown
                                                    They say before his death he gutted
                                                                                    three of his men so they could guard
                                                                                                            his treasure in the afterlife
                                                                      and that today he still sails
                                                                                                the Atlantic as a phantasm
                                                                                    chasing down the descendents
                                                    of his enemies snuffing them in their
                                      dreams by drowning them in rum


Vincent Toro is a Sorta-Rican poet, playwright, and educator living in The Bronx. He holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Rutgers University. Toro is a Pushcart Prize nominee, a finalist for the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Prize, recipient of an associate artist residency with the Atlantic Center for the Arts, and a member of The Macondo Writer’s Foundation. His poems have been published in Word is Bond, Rattapallax, Vallum, Bordersenses, Kweli Literary Journal, The Buenos Aires Review, and in the anthologies Coloring Book: An Anthology of Multicultural Poems and Stories, CHORUS and The Waiting Room Reader 2.


See the full list of 2014 Emerging Poets Fellows