High up, a hop up Manhattan, is the heights,
It’s where all the Spanish people live.
I like it, I love it, I live it.
Spanish is all on the signs.
The Heights is like the Dominican Republic of Manhattan.
People surprised when a black person speak Spanish.
They ask where we are from.
Busses go, bridging me to all these spots.
Bus goes to Yankee stadium, bus goes to Fordham road.
I shop. I eat. I shop. I stop.
Taco Bell is the place,
I go before I play across the street.
Play baseball, play volleyball, play basketball.
Dear Mario,
I am amused by your poem, “High up in the Heights” because I feel like you made the reader visualize what it was like to be there. Also because you showed how you feel about being there. One line that stands out for me is, “It’s where all the Spanish people live. I like it, I love it, I live it. Spanish is all on the signs.” I think these lines are powerful because you are talking about the beautiful culture that you will see when walking into the heights. Your poem helps me understand what walking around the heights is like. You described The things you can do there and emotions you can feel. Thanks for your poem. I look forward to seeing what you make next.