Epiphany on I-290
by Julián Martinez
I love when the sunset
turns clouds to sheets of whipped cream
with a flashlight on the other end—
reminds me of when
we laid newspapers on the kitchen table
and let the babies spread food dye and whipped
cream across their hands and make a mess
and we had to scrub that table so
fucking hard after, ‘til we were in a sweat from it.
God,
Julián Martinez (he/him) is the son of Mexican and Cuban immigrants. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming in Cobra Milk, HAD, Maudlin House and elsewhere. His work has received The Society of Professional Journalists’ Mark of Excellence and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. Find him online @martinezfjulian.