South of the Rio Grandé, siesta 
afternoons sizzle. Not long after noon, 
señors and señoritas become parched. 
Oh, that high jalapeña sun, the salsa, 
the habaneros too taxing, “Olé!” 
we shout, head for the shaded arroyo. 

Then sleep or shenanigans, arroyo 
escapades or sly shut-eye siestas—
Afternoon becomes laguna time—“Oh, lay 
me down, beside the Ensenada.” Noon-
time comida—tequila, mango-salsa, 
guava jam, toasted tortillas, browned, parched 

by the elevated arcing parching 
sun. We bask in the bosque, arroyo 
latticed with shade, dream we dance the salsa. 
We imagine a rhythmic siesta, 
drift with a kettle of vultures as noon 
passes to evening, wake to “Olé!” 

“Olé! Olé! Olé! Olé! Olé!”—
We greet happy hour, our tongues as parched 
as Gary Cooper’s—alone in High Noon, 
the dusty town street like an arroyo, 
the townsfolk all having their siesta, 
we suppose, the clock hands both like Sol, so 

vertical, perpendicular; soul so 
straight as well, he can’t run—“Now, Lord, oh lay 
these evil men down to sleep! Si están 
aquí, que suceda ahora.” Townspeople parched 
as well, souls arid gulches dry arroyos, 
no gumption, blind as owls eyeing noon. 

The Miller gang on the street at High Noon—
me, stretched out in front of TV, salsa, 
nachos, Kansas lawn like an arroyo. 
For a cold cerveza, I’d shout “Olé!” 
Am I one of those townsfolk, parched 
of soul? I go out, take my siesta 

with me. High Noon in Kansas—siesta 
time, sizzle, salsa, jalapeña parching 
on the grill—my own arroyo. “Olé!” 

Poet’s Glossary:

• arroyo – dry wash
  
  
• bosque – dense grove of trees and underbrush
  
  
• comida – meal, lunch
  
  
• ensenada – cove
  
  
• laguna – lagoon
  
  
• “Si están aquí, que suceda ahora” – This gringo’s attempt to get a line to end in “Si están” to approximate siesta for the appropriate sestina line ending. I tried various combinations of the line “If they are here, then let it happen now” in an online translator until I got the Spanish “translation” I needed. All in the pursuit of quirkiness!

Roy J. Beckemeyer’s

latest poetry collections include The Currency of His Light (Turning Plow Press, 2023) and Mouth Brimming Over (Blue Cedar Press, 2019). Stage Whispers (Meadowlark Books, 2018) won the 2019 Nelson Poetry Book Award. Amanuensis Angel (Spartan Press, 2018) comprises ekphrastic poems inspired by modern artists’ depictions of angels. His first book, Music I Once Could Dance To (Coal City Press, 2014), was a 2015 Kansas Notable Book. With Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, he co-edited Kansas Time+Place: An Anthology of Heartland Poetry (Little Balkans Press, 2017). His poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize (2015 and 2020) and for Best of the Net (2018), and was selected for The Best Small Fictions 2019.

Beckemeyer serves on the editorial boards of Konza Journal and River City Poetry. A retired engineer and scientific journal editor, he is also a nature photographer who, in his spare time, researches the mechanics of insect flight and the Paleozoic insect fauna of Kansas, Oklahoma, and Alabama. He lives in Wichita, Kansas, where he and his wife recently celebrated their 60th anniversary.

Please visit author’s website for more information about his books, as well as links to interviews and readings (scroll down his About page for the link-list).

More on the Web: By, About, and Beyond

⚡ Megarhyssa, ekphrastic poem by Beckemeyer in MacQueen’s Quinterly (Issue 14, August 2022), nominated by MacQ for the Pushcart Prize

⚡ The Color of Blessings in MacQueen’s Quinterly (Issue 5, October 2020), nominated by MacQ for the Pushcart

⚡ Featured Artist in KYSO Flash (Issue 12, Summer 2019); showcasing Beckemeyer’s poetry, prose poetry, and insect photography

⚡ Words for Snow, a prose poem in KYSO Flash (Issue 9, Spring 2018), which was selected for reprinting in The Best Small Fictions 2019