In his second collection of poems, we meet Félix Garmendía again after he has been settled in Washington Heights for years with his husband, Denis. With Denis, he and his wheelchair Purple Raven swing around Fort Tryon Park, the streets, the building, and the apartment in all seasons. There Félix bears witness to some of the most frightening occurrences of the last fifty years: the disinformation and bigotry of a feral, out-of-control administration, the explosion of racism, the pandemic, and the storming of the Capitol. Through his eyes we watch exhausted healthcare workers exit hospitals, still wearing their equipment, to a universal round of applause, played out differently in every New York neighborhood. We see Black people murdered by police. We shiver with anger at the blend of authoritarianism and misinformed rage that almost guts the heart of our democracy. And yet through it all, through Félix, we also find the grace and courage to laugh and find our own oases of hope. Félix is a poet, HIV+ survivor, and disabled due to Inclusion Body Myositis. He survived his early years in conservative Catholic Puerto Rico and arrived in Manhattan, New York City, in 1988. His poems narrate his life as a gay activist, poet, and storyteller in the face of illness and intolerance. Because of his Inclusion Body Myositis, Félix has become adept at typing with one finger. He has also become incredibly, enchantingly adept at capturing the mood of a year, a day, a season, a place. As in his first poetry collection, Flying On Invisible Wings, Félix sculpts with words the very heart of his wishes, hopes, failings, and cares. But here they are often the wishes, hopes, failings, and cares of a nation, as well. ​​​​​​​With Félix, we emerge from the deluge that the last few years have brought into our lives. We find the calm place again.