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I'm Maggie Smith and this is the Slow down Given the misinformation that circulates on the Internet, often unchecked, I'd like to preface today's poem with a fact. Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens. Our struggles are bound because we are citizens together of this nation. Puerto Rico Goes Dark By Juan J. Morales the New York Times September 20, 2017 as dark as the busy signal my father gets when calling his brothers and sister on the southwest part of the island. As dark as the 95% of electricity blinking and then staying off as the empty grocery aisles where they used to store water, bread, milk and cereal. As the unanswered Facebook messages to my primos. As the Colonial Jones act in place longer than a century lifted for only 10 days as PIT bull's private plane back and forth to deliver the goods for the people as the money sent to them on PayPal with receipts proving they only bought items on the survival list. As the familia having a barbecue to use up what will spoil and what has to cooked right now. As dark as the swirl of the storm's eye, we watched from the mainland thick red circle consuming the entire island under the name Maria category 4 as the people who fight about to kneel or not to kneel in the NFL as the people who don't understand PR is a commonwealth, its residents powerless US citizens as the four major airlines willing to gouge a plane ticket up to 1600, 1800 and $2000 as me posting more prayers for PR with a handful of likes as El Yunque's trees splintered and thrown into the void as the boricuas who hike each Saturday to the crossroad near the last standing cell tower, making phone calls to the list of people from town until the signal goes out again as someone's sarcasm saying for once I'm glad I have AT&T as the dismantled ports full of tangled boats trying to deliver supplies as the decade's worth of infrastructure that needed updating a decade ago all washed away, as dark as smaller Caribbean islands wiped out, as helpless as someone making plans to donate blood next week. As dark as my father again assuming everyone's okay but needing to hear from anyone as the airport and San Juan down to a handful of functioning gates as the thickest miles of trees now a flat unobstructed view of the favorite beach as Mexico City after its earthquake last week and Houston and Harvey a few weeks before as a still hidden gem the world doesn't visit. As exhausted as my friend here in Pueblo on the phone with everyone except his father who was helping to clean up the neighborhood. As me finally becoming speechless for once, as the flicker of hospital generators running on diesel, as the president complaining that these people want everything done for them, as dark as the complexion of the people making them less important to the government as the whole where the coquis still whistle as the quick phone call from a prima who tells me they're okay and then asks where do we start to rebuild as dark as the news broadcasts, moving on to talk about the rest of the world in the dark. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram @downdownshow and bluesky.downdownshow.org Maggie here, host of the Slowdown Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times. You can help keep these moments of poetry and reflection going by making a gift today. Visit slowdownshow.org donate.
Main Theme:
In this episode of The Slowdown, host Maggie Smith presents and reflects on the poem "Puerto Rico Goes Dark" by Juan J. Morales. The poem grapples with the devastation of Hurricane Maria in 2017, illuminating themes of connection, helplessness, political neglect, and resilience among Puerto Ricans—U.S. citizens who endured prolonged suffering during and after the storm. Smith frames the poem with a reminder of Puerto Rico’s political status and entwined fates with the mainland, inviting listeners to contemplate the depth of hardship and the necessity of recognition, solidarity, and hope.
"Given the misinformation that circulates on the Internet, often unchecked, I'd like to preface today's poem with a fact. Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens. Our struggles are bound because we are citizens together of this nation." (01:20)
"As dark as the 95% of electricity blinking and then staying off as the empty grocery aisles where they used to store water, bread, milk, and cereal." (01:55)
"As the president complaining that these people want everything done for them, as dark as the complexion of the people making them less important to the government." (04:05)
“As helpless as someone making plans to donate blood next week.” (03:40)
“As the quick phone call from a prima who tells me they're okay and then asks where do we start to rebuild…” (04:45)
“…as the news broadcasts, moving on to talk about the rest of the world in the dark.” (04:55)
"Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times." (05:10)
“Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens. Our struggles are bound because we are citizens together of this nation.”
— Maggie Smith, 01:20
“As dark as the 95% of electricity blinking and then staying off as the empty grocery aisles where they used to store water, bread, milk and cereal.”
— Juan J. Morales, 01:55
“As the people who don't understand PR is a commonwealth, its residents powerless US citizens...”
— Juan J. Morales, 03:10
“As dark as the complexion of the people making them less important to the government...”
— Juan J. Morales, 04:05
“...as the quick phone call from a prima who tells me they're okay and then asks where do we start to rebuild...”
— Juan J. Morales, 04:45
“Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times.”
— Maggie Smith, 05:10
The episode’s tone is contemplative and compassionate, with Maggie Smith’s calm, attentive voice framing both the trauma and resilience of Puerto Ricans post-Maria. Morales’ poem is urgent, heartbreaking, and sharply observant—a blend of reportage, elegy, and protest. The reflection at the end is gentle yet firm in its call for both awareness and hope.
This episode of The Slowdown turns toward the darkness of disaster, not only as a physical reality but as a political and emotional metaphor. “Puerto Rico Goes Dark” serves as a poetic bearing witness—compiling moments of anxiety, loss, anger, and stubborn hope—urging accountability and empathy. Smith’s commentary and Morales’ vivid lines remind listeners of poetry’s power to keep us connected, reflective, and striving for light even in the hardest nights.