the second in our series of exclusive extracts from Mexican Poets Go Home – a bilingual, free-to-download anthology, coming very soon from Bongo Books.
Sara Uribe – from Antígona Gónzalez
A massive line. This morning. We arrived dragging our feet behind us, after the anxiety of the trip, after exposure to the elements, after the infinite exhaustion from the fear to the morgue.
[Is there no sun of the dead?
This sun is no longer mine]
We all arrive alone here.
We are a number that ever grows. A lengthy line that moves neither forward nor backward. Something that remains, lurking, latent. That stabbing pain that settles firmly in the stomach, that shelters in the muscles, in every pulse of blood, in the heart and temples.
[Is there no sun of the dead?
This sun is no longer yours]
We are what disinhabits the space of memory. Horde. Stampede. Immersion. Diaspora. A hole in a pocket. A ghost who refuses to abandon you. We are that invasion. A body made of murmurings. A body that doesn’t appear, that no one wishes to name.
Here we are all limbo.
Eugenio Tisseli – from Three Threads
31. the thread that speaks shouts: the thread speaks the voice undoes the infinite intertwining
32. service, swing into tangled embrace
33. pull up unlimited in the solar network
34. terzetto, as interlocking square, dovetailed
35. cross out: III courses
36. create the anatomical structure of the mixer: issue financial organization, characterize starring histrion artifact system in the main body, structure intertwine star
37. torsion sphere: noise sleeps, makes sleep
38. last to put together as if they were individual states: rotary mechanism team
39. the imaginary place and suspended connector: L part of the complex body stars
40. haste, fraction of the trinity, dome, action, entangled: create from raw material, ternary point I, create from raw material, route, link
41. fourth thread breaks all
42. double cross: the consistency of complex reproductive roles, externally sullen movement inside the star structure: created from raw materials
43. new color braided of dances: a thread cannot call itself: noise
44. cognition, aweigh in sensory space, is lacking
45. three woven in the anatomical structure of celestial body, star trio itinerary, body structure
46. fractional thought rolled back: reprimands interlaced
47. noise is light
48. CI level adequate processing, changing the chronological order of protection: solar plexus, rope entangled in the complex body, part sun
49. surface miscegenation
50. send, divert, current: III distortion points
Tania Carrera – OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR
There is no anecdote/existential symbol/potential that
puts circumstances into order so they may be narrated
to tug up the stalk and embed it in mezzo del cammin,
trace the dotted line that says:
“get to the end of this story.”
After the head, however, is the sky
and there is no possible metaphysic
there are euphemistic landscapes,
indifferences falling perpetually,
on the face of things.
I am bearer of an unclassifiable topography:
I have a helix that slices cleanly
and rebirths conversations.
Blue fuzz dusting old stew,
inside the refrigerator and despite it
there is a secret story:
yarn to weave my own clots.
Lying is required: to glaze the clay of the crockery or muddy the marble.
Jorge Posada – Untitled
The young De Niro: more devastating than any mirror.
Watching him, the wasted hours sink in,
the belly born of obsession,
the creeping baldness.
De Niro went from Travis
to those paper-thin, to-order parts:
policeman, lover, teacher,
roles he could phone in.
In a way I had to do the same:
my duty as breadwinner,
deny the happiness hidden
buried in other bodies.
Like him I learned it’s hardest
to shine in a half-arsed part.
(Sara Uribe’s Antígona Gónzalez was translated by the great John Pluecker. Other versions by John Z. Komurki, Mexico City Lit & Bongo Books, in collaboration with the authors. Ocote’s inimitable Ídolos de la vista gorda was on Calle Regina earlier this year.)