![\"cheers\"](\"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/01\/cheers.jpg\")
<\/h1>\n<\/h1>\nby Ken Massicotte<\/p>\n
Hay que so\u00f1ar para vivir<\/em> 1. High in the Sierra Madre 2. their souls drifting the newborn dead 3. Here Jesus blossoms 4. ###<\/p>\n Biography: Ken Massicotte normally lives on Vancouver Island where he teaches English as a Second Language at the University of Victoria. He is currently residing in the UK. He has published in several online journals, including: River Poets Journal; Turk\u2019s Head Review; Glass: A Journal of Poetry; Retort Magazine; and Wilderness House Literary Review.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I\u2019m Living in Oaxaca by Ken Massicotte Hay que so\u00f1ar para vivir One must dream in order to live. 1. I\u2019m living in Oaxaca but I\u2019m harbouring a canoe. I keep it high in the Jacaranda tree, lightly moored calling currents north; buoyed in the purple bloom of things possible, I sail the blue moon….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1525,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[319],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2907","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-moon-poem"],"aioseo_notices":[],"amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2907","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2907"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2907\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1525"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2907"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2907"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2907"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nOne must dream in order to live.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nI\u2019m living in Oaxaca
\nbut I\u2019m harbouring a canoe.
\nI keep it high
\nin the Jacaranda tree,
\nlightly moored calling
\ncurrents north;
\nbuoyed in the purple bloom
\nof things possible,
\nI sail the blue moon.<\/p>\n
\ndaily I divine
\nmy rio magico taking me
\nthrough canyons and canopies,
\nunderground and above \u2014
\nthe metaphysic of transport,
\nthe cantus of mythologies,
\nborder less, carried by wind
\nand butterflies,
\nmariposas monarcas,
\nof Canada, America,
\nEl Rosario sanctuary
\nwhere the Sanctus flames
\nin the blinding blue sky.<\/p>\n
\nBut the rivers here
\nare dry as the stones
\nthat cover the bones
\nof the desiccated poor \u2014<\/p>\n
\nlike gold dust
\ncatching only
\nwhere laughter lands;<\/p>\n
\nblasted into heaven \u2014
\nlittle sonic booms
\nof innocent release.<\/p>\n
\nMy parent\u2019s Jesus was blond
\nand suffered only rosary
\nrubies of blood;
\nbarely broke a sweat,
\nblue eyes clearly beyond.<\/p>\n
\nin cool gilt chambers
\nreprieving toil;
\nlimbs broken,
\neyes rolled to ecstasy,
\ntriumphing torture
\nand this exhausted soil.<\/p>\n
\nI miss the winter
\nlull of wet wind,
\nbare limbs
\nwild in the impetuous
\nwarm respite;
\nnight clouds cresting
\nan errant southern stream,
\ncolossal sugar maple
\nwrithing like sentries possessed,
\ncasting, recalling love,
\na crescent craft homing
\nthe waves of midnight.<\/p>\n