What have we ever learned
of mortal wounds
we truly come to know
better than this
ingrained,
formidable fight
under our skin.
Were we not so dumb
we’d be dying every hour
blade to grave if we knew better
long gone before our time.
Luck be dumb be luck
if only for a bit.
Mi deseo te precede
como el jade a la escultura
mi infatuación, no obstante
retira lo que no es parte
el espacio negativo entre tus muslos
los músculos de tus costados
tu sonrisa torcida.
Lo que no es tuyo holgó
inútil en mi memoria
cada vez que te vi.
Diente por diente
estuviste siempre
invisible dentro de mí.
Olvidé, sin embargo
ceci n’est pas une pipe.
Mi deseo, infecundo
te sucede.
Hay un árbol frente a mí que ha estado aquí toda mi vida.
El viento sacude las hojas
de derecha a izquierda,
la luz se zambulle en su copa
y brinca con fuerza entre trampolines
de retazos verde limón.
Un amable gigante en quien rara vez he reparado
que, por alguna razón, imagino de perfil.
Pero hoy es verano
el cielo es finalmente azul
y la cabellera de mi árbol refulge tranquila
como el mar
innegable en magnitud
hermoso como respirar profundo.
Esto, imagino
es estar presente.
I have always known this to be
f r a g i l e
the house denial built
crumbles
like we knew it would
and yet…
there I sit
a demon
eating my own tail
gnawing back at me from the inside.
Land has parted deep
m a s s i v e
from within
a wellspring of sympathy
gushes out glasslike
unclouded
unburdened
what is ripening here
what has rotten
our foundation.
Ground shakes.
Ground breaks.
It sobs loudly
«I wanted to be
all those things for you»
It wails the world to sleep
a shroud for covers
little blue heart embroidered on it.
Horizon can be seen
its distance can be known
bu t i t s w e i g h t
as unbearable as tomorrow
and always a day
away.
Media pastilla para estar despierta
dos para estar dormida
otra para la fiesta
entera o molida
otra para coger tranquila
pero nunca estoy tranquila
nunca estoy tranquila
nunca estoy tranquila
nunca estoy tranquila
nunca estoy tranquila
nunca estoy tranquila
nunca estoy tranquila
media pastilla más.
Sixty nine love songs
not one fit you
perhaps the one about
wanting to talk about ex lovers
and however many others
jumping off the wires
like tiny birds.
Have you seen them
not a flip as they go
wings stored away at the jump
they know when to when
they know what is what
nothing special about them
you can find two in a row
even when they’re rare.
I am perhaps ready for you
to whistle your tune
and spring off that wire.
In turn I’ll sound out
nothingness to no one
perched on a clothesline
waiting to when.
I find myself looking for
god with no faith
no beliefs
other than the need for reprieve.
Conversations with myself often turn to
pleas for those I can’t reach
it’s hard for us who crave
control when none exist.
There’s none and never was
so build a god I must
and pray this time he does come through
for patience is not my gift
I need to see him receive
the happiness he so deserves
and I failed to secure.
Patience is not my gift but I’ll wait
for god to grace him first
a bone for me, then
if time allows.
Sinks in a little deeper
each day slowly dipping
from hanging rings.
The more I train this muscle
the less it hurts to shoulder
a perfect split.
Merciless hour glass ran out of fucks
fresh out of time knocked the wind off my lungs
flawed execution by classical measure
o h , b u t t h e b o n e s !
count themselves and their blessings.
Took a bunch of pills woke up soaking wet
a perfect saturated circle under me
so perfect this shadow, how?
bedspread darkened with sweat
the fabric which clothed me, dry as wry
don’t even know what I meant
don’t even think that it meant anything
«God is the sweat running down his back,
the water soaked her blonde hair black»
I think about that,
Elise.
Perhaps I sweated out all color
or slashed the walls of the world with all my clawing
and color slowly drained out
unremembered
Yes, I’ve sweated out all color feasibly in passion
but this embarrassing hue
striking against the grey.
Twenty five years a teen
so much you ask of me
«would that I could»
age out of wanting you
like I did at thirteen
foreseeable routine
to covet those who’ve misaligned themselves to me
stripping me only for parts they need
that I happily part with
as if I had no value no value
no value at all.
Train’s a-coming, you know
if we won’t meet, I should board
but you stay on your side
I let thunder roll by
we stare each other down
we each mouth something but it hits the ground.
Malas traducciones 