O, Miami Poetry Festival

Readers vote for their 'That's so Miami' favorite poems


WLRN-Miami Herald News

What does the idea of “Miami” conjure? Sunshine, South Beach, Cuban coffee?

WLRN-Miami Herald News and the O, Miami Poetry Festival partnered for a month-long project called “That’s So Miami,” in which listeners and readers were asked to write poems that began or ended with the phrase, “That’s So Miami.” More than 1,400 poems were submitted — and not just by locals, but from Maine, Idaho and California, too.

WLRN asked online readers to vote for their favorites in five categories. Here are the winners. Read more entries at wlrn.org.

Best Ode to Miami Spanglish

By Lauren Fernandez, Miami

Exciting and Extravagant.

Guajiros in Bentleys.

Tostones and Champagne.

That’s so Miami.

Best Ode to Miami Food

By Cristina Rodriguez, Miami

Thanksgiving in Miami

My cousin brought the sweet potatoes,

my aunt brought the congri,

my brother brought the yuca

and my uncle the black beans.

There also was a turkey

the best I have ever done

the reason being that it almost tastes like pork.

But this carbohydrate feast wastes not the biggest thing

the main ingredient was

the love of all involved in it.

That’s so Miami.

Best Ode to Miami Traffic

By Marcus Cade, Miami Shores

Exit ramp back up,

Losers wait; I cut in front —

That’s so Miami

Best Ode to Miami’s Flaws

By Dylann Turffs, Coral Gables

February newspaper says

on-the-job cops

are ignoring emergencies

to drink cortaditos

& Florida sun

today on the way home

I passed a car accident

white sedan curved around pole

white van engine folded in

nearby a detective

leans back & sucks a cigar

I think to myself: at least he showed up

That’s so Miami.

Best Ode to Miami

By Arlo Haskell, Key West

That’s so Miami can see

its way from the bottom

of the bay to crawl across

the streets,” she said,

when I asked

about the lights

that run the edge

of the swamps down west.

“But so much light

makes adjacent darkness

darker,” I said. “That’s

right,” she said. “And vice

versa. Blindness brought

by surfeit of light

is my kind of

night. Stars scrape

it like gravel

in knees and elbows,

skitter across it like storm-

tossed flying fish

on the sand.”

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