Vaya Con Dios


When I was a young child

I rode around my parents’ apartment

on a pony stick wishing my mother

vaya con dios until she would ignore me

by hiding in the Herald Tribune puzzle pages.

When I stopped, she would come out of the paper

and resume her normal activities

until I resurfaced in the living room

under the baby grand, which was also the conning tower

of my submarine. I fired a torpedo

sinking a military ship sailing

across our living room. It burst into flames

and scores of screaming people jumped into

the freezing Atlantic with no hope of salvation.


Vincent Bell grew up in NYC and has a BS and MA from NYU and an MBA from Fordham. His poetry has appeared in Pank, The Ravens Perch, Mudfish 21, Offcourse, and The Westchester Review. Vincent lives with his wife in Ardsley, NY. They have two grown children.

J Journal

Department of English

John Jay College of Criminal Justice

524 West 59th Street, 7th Floor

New York, NY. 10019.

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