Part recovery journal, part portrait gallery, Key West Nights takes Hospital into uncharted territory, emotionally as well as culturally. The book confirms Hopsital’s place as a strong, distinctive voice in Latino poetry.  — Gustavo Perez Firmat

Rendered with “the brushstroke of memory” Key West Nights and Other Aftershocks is a haunting, intimate journey through a landscape of loss and redemption. These poems are of abundance and mercy, shaped by the exile’s singular history, and guarded by the better angles of compassion and truth. It’s an elegant and impressive collection.  —Sylvia Curbelo

From Key West Nights & Other Aftershocks

Madre de aguas
The dream spews elaborate tiles,
paladares and sobs.
Nothing is
as it’s supposed to be
wood and water
The woman reaches
for this lament that pours over her
grips earth and tape grass
beneath the river.

Are my arms dissolving into sand?
My eyes rolling black pebbles?
My breath the current?

By the Miami River
The scraggy woman with her half tainted
red hair inspects the heirloom
hallways sorting the missing furniture
wary
wary
The house molders
flanked by high risers
blinding
blinding
a garden parody
hungover pavers
cracked planters.
Inside
walls are crumbling,
tarnished pipes and rusted conduits
setting apart each room
conspiring
conspiring
She veils the light
with blanket curtains
until nightfall, when voices have quieted, she
sweeps
sweeps
sweeps
dirt from wooden planks
between the copper pipes.