Tariffs by Gary Soto

Tariffs

Neruda, fill your ears with the sound of the sea
And stay home.

Chopin, close the lid of your piano—
Lay on the couch, hands on your playable ribs.

Koko, famed gorilla, eat your apple
And knuckle-walk yourself back to the jungle.

Rembrandt, enough of your self-portraits.

Tariffs are in place—
Cargo can’t unload
Or the sailors come ashore.

Wind, night stars, moon,
Don’t move your illustrious beauty
Into any of our three time zones.
The price of goods
According to the government?
30% before lunch, 157% after lunch.

Margaret Atwood, we’ve heard enough from you.
Lucien Freud, quit your scribbling.
Vicente Hernandez, your boleros went through one ear
Then out the other—let’s leave it at that.

The White House has gone dark—
No lightbulbs for the staffers.
Candles will lead the way
To a darker place.

Li Po, don’t bother crossing the Pacific—
Again, a tariff is in place.
Boil a small pot of rice,
Lick a knuckle for salt,
Place a mint under your tongue.

If you must come, old poet,
Remember that you’ll dock in the United States.
Speak English when you step off the boat.

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Gary Soto is an independent writer who works in all genres. With two others, he recently produced an indie film based on his YA novel Buried Onions.