Tuesday, July 25th
The cool, heavy sun is mute: Apollo's
giddy, radiant youth
past and gone.
The sky is cloudy. Daisy's
you need to be somewhere
in an hour or two,
Wednesday, July 19th
Myriad the threads of sound, distinct, which woven together undergird
the forest's majestic, contemplative Silence-- the wind, trickling water,
birds... distant traffic... angry fat guy yelling at his girlfriend on the
Monday, July 10th
Insurance is a murrain, insurance
blunteth the needle in the maid’s hand
and stoppeth the spinner’s cunning. Pietro Lombardo
came not by insurance
Duccio came not by insurance
nor Pier della Francesca; Zuan Bellin’ not by insurance
nor was ‘La Calunnia’ painted.
Saturday, July 8th
Saturday, June 24th
Boolean intimacy/ cold equations/ of true love and betrayal, heartbreak/ and satisfaction
Tuesday, June 13th
Sunday, April 16th
se debe leer en un idioma que no sea el propio
Friday, October 28th, 2016
Mirá / estas cenizas / que fueron en otro tiempo mi cuerpo / lo que has abrazado fuerte / en otro tiempo / sientelas caerse / estas cenizas / entre tus dedos. Escuchá / al bosque / silencioso.
Look, now/ at these ashes / that used to be my body / you held me tight / used to / Now feel them falling / these ashes / between your fingers. Listen / to the silent / forest.
Monday, February first, 2016
Otra vez publicado -- mi traducción del cuento "Mariquita Sánchez" por Paula Jiménez España se puede leer en la nueva edición de Palabras Errantes, "Writing Lesbian Desire".
Sunday, January 10th, 2016
Tweedledum and Tweedledee
It is inherently liberating for a writer to retell the story of Tweedledum and Tweedledee. The essential absurdity of opening your story "Tweedledum was squatting pensive by their camp fire..." can absolve the author of any further need for exposition or explication. The fictional world of his narrative will be heralded in all its richness and detail by the mere presence of the chubby, angry twins.
Agreed to have a battle;
For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
Had spoiled his nice new rattle.
Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
As black as a tar-barrel;
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their quarrel.
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