Photo: Ana Paganini.
***
Prince in the Rose Garden
Listen to me
this is a poem
it does not speak of love
it does not speak of blue scarves
on the shoulders
of the singer who dangles
his heels
over the edge of the cliff
It does not speak of the Rolex
nor of the pennant
of the Uruguayan fencing federation
It does not speak of the drained lake
in the American forest
It says nothing about
the foul-smelling confectionery
that receives the noctivagants
for breakfast
when the day has already passed
This is a poem
it does not speak of shocks
at the seven o’clock mass
nor does it speak of the percentage
of women who are frightened
by the image of the husband
trimming his beard at sunset
It does not speak of broken tractors
in the American forest
it does not speak of the idea of north
in the city of the revolutionaries
It does not speak of crying
it does not speak of confused virgins
it does not speak of advertisers
with worn elbows
Nor of herds of deer
Listen well
this is a poem
it will not align concepts
such as freedom, equality, and faith
It will not fix the hair
of the girl who works
with zeal at the cash register
in the supermarket
It will not improve
It will not improve
this is a poem
listen well
it does not speak of love
it does not speak of saints
it does not speak of God
and it also does not speak of the farmer
who spent 38 years
in discovering a vision
almost mystical
of the man who sings
and crosses
National Highway 117
to come home
or to some place
near home.
***
Someone Warned Me
He said that I needed to return
because I was his family
he said that the birds
were starting again
with that strange intonation
that could be seen as sad
or as quite wonderful
you need to come back, he said
some acacias are surrendering
to abandonment or to despair
and the fish market was flooded
by a huge inundation
please come back, see if you come back
this morning the taxi driver was
driving through all the radio stations
until he found a news item
there is no news of you in the city
do me a favor and come back
a revolution is taking place
they want to remove the prime minister
from his stubborn chair
they want to burn the streets
they want to improve the structure
of the bell that marks noon
in Antoñito’s throat
go on, go see if you come back, that’s what he said
you are my family; it’s impossible
to witness the transition from winter to spring without family nearby
and how am I to buy lollypops
if you’re not waiting for me out there on the far side in your car
playing with the engine’s vibrations
while I’m tapping my fingers on the wooden counter
of the spice shop where I always buy
orange or strawberry lollypops
you and I always find a way
to synchronize our tempos
I tap the counter four times
you rev the engine four times
family is that very thing: two cowboys
defying gravity and monotony
come on, tell me if you’re coming back or not
last week I noticed
that cornfields are beginning to spread
don’t tell me that doesn’t tempt you
that’s what he said, exactly the same
the plantation that spreads seduces you
he said I needed to return
that perhaps I should pack up
my suitcase, leave my job
stuff everything into your suitcase
don’t forget your white shirt
don’t forget your bone flute
don’t forget not to cut your hair
put everything in that suitcase
and if you have time bring me seven cowries
come back, tell me you’re coming back
note that this is migration season
and you have always accompanied
hummingbirds and penguins
enough of signing up
for that championship of detachment
you always lose; you should know that by now
he said I should come back
that at Mrs. Celia’s restaurant
they were serving a kind of bread different from the usual
that at the amusement park
they were staging a new spectacle
that in the lion’s den no one lives anymore
absolutely no one
that a revolution is starting
you need to come back, that’s what he said
please come back, my love, come home
so I packed my bag and that’s why I returned
— I returned because they called me.
***
The Last Poem of the Last Prince
He was capable of crossing the city by bicycle just to
see you dance-
And that
speaks volumes about my chest.