Passage to America
Elisa Albo

How to Make a Raft

You will need the following items:
canvas, tractor tire inner tubes,
twine, wire, sawed off oil barrels,
wooden planks, nails, cut up branches,
a back door, a compass, the end

of a rope, a final straw, to have
had it up to here. Aspirin, some
honey, a shot of cane aguardiente,
an ocean of hope, a cup of grace,
a hand, two arms, a thread, a chance,

sweat, tears, blood, gall, sugar,
no salt, bread, ingenuity, super-
human courage, your dog. Take
plenty of fresh water, a red cross,
a blue sky, a white flag, a sail,

a symbol, a word, a joke, a song,
a line of poetry—preferably Marti.
You’ll need a sunny day, a starry
night, a good wind, a statue of
la Virgin de la Caridad del Cobre,

an olive branch, though a palm frond
may do. Take your birth certificate,
passport, marriage license, diplomas--
you’ll lose them at sea. A pad with
the telephone numbers of Uncle Tito,

Cousin Juanito, your niece Maria Elena--
you’ll lose those too. Don’t forget
your most cherished photographs.
Before you leave, give away or sell:
your dresser, bed, clothes, shoes,

appliances, paintings, plates, T.V.
Take only what fits inside. When
you build a raft, everything changes
forever. If you return, you’ll find little
of your former life. You”ll get used

to your new life. While in the water,
stay calm, watch the horizon, don’t
bleed, don’t think about what lurks
below, only what lurks behind. If
you make it, you’re free. Muy bien.

isbn 1-59661-041-7
39 pages/$9

The passage in these elegant poems is not merely the physical transference from one homeland to another, Cuba to Miami, locations separated not so much by miles as by time and emotion; it is the psychological and emotional distance that divides the two worlds, one the poet has learned to measure: "the sky above/my door in Miami/over forty years/later is barely/two hundred miles north..." The poems in this collection also trace the spiritual journey of the one caught in the middle who must ask, "Are we gypsies, nomads,/migratory birds?" In the quest is the discovery, the poem is her homeland. In a strong, sure voice, Elisa Albo defines the role of the poet as not only the questioner, but also the healer, the keeper of memory, living "on the edge of a slippery pearl, an island/I have never known, I have never seen,/except on the atlas of my memory."
--Judith Ortiz Cofer

These finely crafted poems explore the physical and emotional pain of the journey, and of making a new life in America. Cuba haunts this rich, sensuous collection--in the stories told, in the memories passed down--and clearly, the passage continues. Albo luxuriates in precise, evocative details and leaves the reader wanting to continue the journey with her.
--Jim Daniels

I am impressed by the precision and passion with which Elisa Albo has written these poems of personal, genealogical, and historical witness to the immigrant experience. Her eye for lyric detail and social nuance is marvelous. This "Passage to America" is a lyrical journey to be savored.
--Campbell McGrath

Elisa Albo was born in Havana and grew up in Lakeland, Florida. Her poetry has appeared in journals and anthologies, including Crab Orchard Review, The MacGuffin, Poetry East, Tigertail: A South Florida Poetry Annual, and Irrepressible Appetites. She completed her B.A. at the University of Florida and her M.F.A. at Florida International University, where she won Academy of American Poets graduate awards. She teaches English, ESL, and creative writing at Broward Community College, where she is the Margaret and Cato Roach Endowed Teaching Chair, 2002–2005. She lives with her husband and daughters in Ft. Lauderdale.