Dot, Dot, and Dot

Like the opening line in a novel, play, short story, or poem, this first post will be: a blueprint of what's to come and a whole mess of things that will only become clear, or blatantly obvious, after this blog concludes. My name is Oscar, I'm an aspiring intellectual and potential writer, I've seen 21 Arizona Summers and 3 New England Winters and survived them all. I believe in the Oxford Comma for it is useful, aesthetically pleasing, and. . .bubbles. Soy bilingüe, y me encanta leer. To cap off this first post, I'll leave you with my first published work. Much love to Langston Hughes (even if he was breast fed until he was nine years old) and Walt Whitman. 

,y yo veo a quienes cantan América

I trimmed the leaves,

I cut the grass,

set the table, and cooked dinner.

But now I am one more in the kitchen

who is waiting to eat; waiting

a long time to be served. Suddenly,

I’m told to go because the table is full.

So I go back outside into the twilight.

Tomorrow I will greet the sun and ask him why;

today I do not cry, but I don’t sing.