martes, 11 de noviembre de 2014

Poem IV from Section I (Amoebas) of the book "Ameba Maga", 2.0.1.3. editorial, Mexico City, 2014.



as if here there were a certainty
or a certain skill i change course
toward the braid that breaks out in the neck and overtakes me
and feminizes my beard in the wind
and twists and knocks the bottom out of my belly
like a stubborn vine for clumsy
genders and their sudden deaths
where hiatuses of design elliptical genes swing
as if here there grew an uncertainty
or the stroboscopic dance of a transitory body
rocking an empty cot (and its transparent
embryo, impalpable)
like an oyster depearled



Poem: Juan Salzano.
Translation: Evan Leed.

Poem II from section II (Jellyfish) of the book: "Ameba Maga", 2.0.1.3.editorial, Mexico City, 2014.




because floating will be enough when floating is no longer this crime
of traction between the tiles when between the brow there's the vigor of a
rabbit that nibbles out our velcro heart reason bound
to the wound that in the rabbit’s paw no longer means our luck is no longer
enough this crime this death may it float the cavern with its stealthy
bodies that which blunts our coasts with the serfdom of the centuries
is no longer but a sea: its caimans sharks and crabs
spewed on the beach may i breach the night of the seas with the
mothers of these places of these beasts that confuse their thumbs may
the feasts be returned to the plates of the sleepless when giving oneself
to this swimming no longer comes down to copying oneself in other swimming no longer
is the stamp of this crime committed in the mangrove swamps in the depths of
the shoe print in the glaciers nor the emblem of a
return to the bubble the reason of the thermostat in our armpit the
gathered ferment of the islands the jellyfish is not even any longer this torn-up
hymen when put up on poles we return to the plow in the
waters since floating will be imminent when it is inevitable memory
no longer knots its swaying when it floats without recall in this solvent
heat in the glossaurus of this game without your ego without cause to deny you
your primitive projectile this hissing in the seed this galaxy in the cactus the
effect of intermission the certainty in the simoom in the amen without your message
this massage of the jellyfish that melts these byzantine pleistotext letters
of juvenile gymnasts in the sewers the certainty of a
jellyfished fissure of these finger milks is no longer its floating
the smugness of the reptile in other eyes when the labor of the jellyfish
is in itself the nudity of this dimwit of this diviner or this sober parietal
bone between the juices of the vertigo of this pariah between the fumes of this
most criminal sun that touches down in the terraces every night when the water
is calmer it is no longer but the soul that which assumes its destiny of
chewed material among jellyfish there are no longer justifications
to offer in the tides when the crime is only a corroded
monument wherever fragrant reptiles shit out the shards of their fleeing
and whatever our eyes see while they float like balloons is
nothing but the frolic of the transparent fungus as
amoebas that knowing reclaim the shivers the fevers from the idea in
the seed the shell may it stupify me with its minstrel crest astropotence
without shining these anthropoids of the rule the cheeping and dominion are no longer
but the floating may the toad place our enthralled eyes in the
soup of clairvoyance while croaking into our ear its designs may that
helix of shadow soak deep in the ambush if the place
between the seas already seeps through our chests this sea which is no longer
but the angeled expanse or the eskimo birth-bawl that dismisses
our dwelling this anemia already lost in the pitch i think of you
and of your breaches in the braille of your brains on the floor in
the centuries that pronounce that name in arabesques that little
by little dissolves dissolves dissolves


Poem: Juan Salzano.
Translation: Evan Leed.