jueves, 9 de julio de 2020

POLÍGONO




Tras terminar de charlar contigo,
puse una película sobre la Segunda Guerra Mundial

me estaba gustando mucho
pero
a los cinco minutos tuve que pararla
quitarme el pantalón
y darme una ducha casi a ciegas

la única luz iluminando mi casa saliendo de la pantalla
el único ruido, el del ventilador

cuando salí miré brevemente mi reflejo
casi a oscuras
en el espejo

Aún empapado, gotas cayendo por el pecho y la espalda

salí del baño
abrí una de las ventanas del salón de par en par
y miré la ciudad mientras este maldito viento del desierto me secaba

es curioso como funciona la cabeza
guiando al cuerpo

o al revés

si les dejas en paz

viernes, 26 de junio de 2020

Satélites cósmicos



Satélites cósmicos
Aparecen y desaparecen
en un cielo inmenso y repleto como
no lo había visto desde mi salida de la cueva

pulsos azul eléctrico,
como una aguja enhebrándose,
carne de kebab,
invasores galácticos,
un ruido estridente en el oído,
reptilianos y grandes almacenes 

con medio cuerpo por fuera de la ventana
veo a alguien que se ha hecho un campamento
en el devastado jardín vecinal,
veo que se aparta el edredón
y empieza a masturbarse

no se oye nada,
nadie pasa andando por la calle,
ningún coche aparca,
ninguna luz se enciende,
el universo entero se ha detenido para él

solo yo,
como testigo,
sin acabar de creérmelo, 
y las estrellas del grupo globular NGC 6441 que brillan
con una intensidad infinita en algún lugar-tiempo
a 13.000 años luz
sobre los dos

los dedos me huelen aún a tus limones de Sha Abbas
y me parece, de vez en cuando, que tu perfume
se ha quedado conmigo de alguna manera
aunque es algo altamente improbable tras tantas horas
kilómetros y sudor

déjale en paz, cada uno a lo suyo,
son las 3 de la mañana de un martes
y un camión me rocía con una nube de gel hidro-alcohólico en mitad de la Gran Vía
mientras miles de bailarines de sama-o-raghs comienzan a subir en círculos concéntricos hasta el colapso danzando al ritmo mde 
una vaga canción de látex y techno alemán.

Una buena resaca libanesa me nubla la vista lo suficiente
Helia Bandeh, sus ojos,
negros como dos hielos en un vaso,
giran sobre sí mismos hacia el universo
como una breve exégesis de todo lo que veo

Las luces de tu terraza emiten una particular radiación
azulosa y caliente mientras se consumen y arden a una velocidad
mucho mayor que la mía
que ya ni siquiera parece importante para los mirones ni los millonarios de los cielos,
un gran vacío oscuro según cierro los ojos, agotado

pequeños actos de ternura
y densa materia oscura mantienen unida la estructura del universo
con sus hilos y su grasa de ballena
y forman casi toda su masa
entre franjas inflamadas de anillos con céntricos y naranjas 

“Oh, eterno creador del mundo material, ¿acaso mata el fuego?”
- Oye, ven! vuelve un segundo! 
“El fuego no mata a nadie”
- Voy
“Oh, divino, si el verano ha pasado y el invierno ha llegado, ¿qué podemos hacer nosotros, tus seguidores?”
- Ni se te ocurra irte sin darme un beso
“En cada casa, en cada barrio, deberán levantar tres pequeños hogares para los muertos”
- ¿cómo no? - sorprendido- Para eso puedo volver todas las veces que quieras


The Crown




The sickness is already in our lungs
In our brains
In our veins
In our teeth
They don’t really matter
The flies, the sound of this creek or the wind in the pines
It is already in us
It is us

The dead trees know about it
The worms
The monks
The birds sing about it in their eerie verses

All the lizards under the sun
The weavers
The Train wreckers

It’s in every bare branch
In every fish like stone
In every fire

We have lived through it
We have breathed it
It is already flowing inside our spines
Holding onto our feet
Deep and  and shallow

the gas
It is
us

martes, 23 de junio de 2020

L U V






… and this is love

a vacant lot in springtime
wild grass as high as your cheekbones,
wet stray cats,
wild poppies with red-paper-like petals

a photo kept in the closet, looking down,
under a heavy cowboy belt,
a photo taken just now
watered down by your eyes
and by mine

I was a dead man in Montmartre
I was sick to the bones
I saw my reflection on the shop window
And got scared

Life was scarce in these badlands
and I was so thirsty
I did not have a face,
I had a mask
and the pain was so sharp that it was almost beautiful
And I loved you so much
That I was dying for you

Quite probably I did

Love is a lone plastic flower in the window of a small white bathroom,
orange peels that have just been cut,
olive trees,
the tenderness of sex
made silently
breathing mouth to mouth
that will stick forever to your eyelids and to your bare chest
even though it happened a lifetime ago

love is wanting to crash your skull on the asphalt,
it’s a headache
a wound in your hand that never heals
a tiny necklace
kept in the little white nightstand by your bed

… someone cooking spaghetti just for you
somebody undressing
very quietly and slowly
in the light flooded room
while you stare in silence
and concentrate on the blaze
Love is
dozens of satellites falling one by one
over this earth
love is writing these lines while working in a fucking bar
And wanting to stay in bed for hours with you
Just sweating in the summer sun and feeling your hips brushing against mine
drops of blood on the kitchen floor
your meal burned out in the oven

it’s exactly 45 people speaking way too loud
above the music while Evans plays for Debbie
at 3:30 am
such sadness in those keys
such solitude
such delicacy
the sun already shinning outside
something that you will never witness again

Love is living apart
not knowing the name of a single star
no seeing
no hearing
no touching
no smelling
no feeling
not talking anymore
the bottle is halfway down
and you are sleeping naked on the beach
small blue flames burning in your fingers and your tongue

an egg shell
a letter
an old love note you find while you are reading a book
along with a small dried flower
that takes away all the oxygen from your body
like an immense vacuuming machine connected to the void:
“I love you”

a feral lake,
small yellow butterflies flying through the wild grass,
thinking about you in that pale pink dress
jumping over a fence to get into your grandmother’s tiny garden
thousands of miles from my home

Love is like dressing up after leaving work
And drinking too much coffee
a pale distant need
a hunger
a heat
a joyous heart turned blue
a jacket without that very particular button

Love is writing under a traffic light:
“I am kind of drunk
and this sheet of paper is torn apart in half
and it smells like beer,
cheap perfume,
and northern weed.
I miss you so much that I would forgive you
if I could right now and die”

love is howling
love is craving
love is being hungry
and trembling with the morning dew
it’s a two year old girl with curly hair
laughing at you
while you don’t have a clue as to why

it is looking at the city
from your window
trying to make sense of the night,
it’s homeless gatherings under the tunnels,
those mirrors trapped in elevators,
& eternal piano ballads

Love is watching her portrait on your screen,
a smoke in her right hand,
that mouth and that skin that were a part of you
and that melting core
still
radiating waves of warmth
dissolving every fucking cell in your body
like a car crash at the speed of light

love is looking at her face now
and wondering who the fuck is she

Love is staring at two people punching each other
or
kissing one another
it is like watching a glass dry for two full minutes

love is not hearing the indications properly
burning some papers on the rooftop above the bridge
throwing them out there but never leaving the place
it’s wanting something with all your guts
and watching it leave
it’s running away with someone in middle of the night
it’s brewing coffee for one at breakfast

love is a phone call
by a marketing operator
when you are about to kill yourself
and lemons from Iran in a small grey fabric bag
“hey, come back here and give me a kiss before you leave”

Love is crying alone in the middle of a demonstration
Erasing junk email
Doing it all over again
No need for more rehearsals
It will be crazy anyway

Love is sitting in the back of a taxi in Edinburgh, Scotland
And feeling like an island of dust floating in the infinite empty space
a virus
a leach
a dying horse waiting for you to shoot him
It’s the smell of birth
And sweat
And every little bit of despair and sorrow on this whole damn earth
Coming to you like an echo crawling through the desert

love
if anything
is just shutting the fuck up
and just listening

Love is a memory so thin that flies away with the breeze of the morning
A road in silence
A ray of light
A disappearing mist in the hills
A cold early November day
A stag lost in the woods
His damp white hair shining through the trees
and wolves gathering under the moon
that glows at your window

Love is a distant storm
a dying hummingbird
Exhaustion
Fate
Faith

It’s a train travelling at night
a small lottery price
an unexpected kiss so warm that almost makes you cry
so you slip your right hand under her skirt

love is looking through the window on a plane,
only clouds in sight,
forgetting your keys at her place,
a perpetual longing,
it’s the flood and the hail
and the oceanic pain to see you go

love stays with you
like a sickness,
or a blessing,
or an omen

half a year has gone by
and I still have your heart buried deep within me
I am watching time go by like a warrior in his tomb
Rotten swords, broken earthenware, dead flowers
Around my skull

Hold on, she says, from the frozen city,
But I know the count is getting close to ten
The referee is a small kind man
And my coach just wants to get home.

Don’t worry about me
The last blow has been fruitful
Like a pomegranate seed
It landed just in the right place

I am not going to stand up again
I will see my fate
Your face, my dear Persephone, glows like a candle on the other side

I just want to see it again,

I am done














sábado, 2 de mayo de 2020

Summer

Summer is here
& it will never leave
his roar of ventilators
sweat in the armpits, headaches at dawn
sticky hands and flipflops are here to stay
summer is here
for you & me
burning our hearts & our will
with such an easy fire
an almost colorless fire
so easily
pushing us down in our cradles &
caves
summer is here and all the others are leaving for good
we will never see them again at the bars or at the
backstreets running away from the cops to smoke a joint or two

they are flying over to Cuba or Katmandu or the east coast
and they wont be back
so this very summer, so long ago and wide
& it will be our long best friend

crushing our skulls with his empty hands
exhaling clouds of dusk over our eyes until
we get dry
and lost
and grey

sábado, 18 de abril de 2020

Most faul


In the land of the burning snakes
The sugar canes
The mud
beating hearts are bleeding up on the tower
Dearest darling
We stare at each other with teardrops in your eyes
The pure dark blue sea hitting the blackest cliff with such violence
That it is tearing our souls
APART
A dime at a time
The roar of a hundred meter wave could not drown your empty heart

Your long black hair in braids
of water and fireflies and green bindweed
I got along without you very well in the times of war
the sun is setting
and You always had to get way
The only lights burning now are the last prayers for the day
The pristine robes of the sisters of mercy
And those Saint Elmo’s fires you hide under your lips

Like a torch for the terrified sailor
Trembling amidst the storm
I will buy those violets for your fur
hold hands with the cowboys and wish for some drenched earth
and some lullabies
and Almond Joys

The green jade idol with a moving head and white shark eyes
Looks exactly like you did
The stone cold knife with all the tears and all the rest
my sweetheart the venomous
The treacherous wife
She did me, she'll do you, she's got that kind of loving
in her veins,
a golden Trojan horse
a game of cards
you always moved your tongue too fast

I just wanna smell your broiling breath again
And die inside you
Again
Watch the storms
Ask the hangman to hold it a little while
You know for sure than a man ain’t nothing but a man
and fire
and a crave
and some warmth
and meat

martes, 7 de abril de 2020

HEY HEY BANANA BANANA (ESPAÑOL)


Mi amigo Leo y yo
corremos y reímos cuando nos vemos desde lejos

No pronunciamos ni una sola palabra

Solo le muerdo el cuello
Mientras él echa la cabeza para atrás
Y le miro reírse con sus miles de diminutos dientes blancos como de pez

Mi amigo Leo y yo
Nos saludamos con gruñidos y dando vueltas sobre nosotros mismos hasta que nos mareamos
(más yo que el)

Mi amigo Leo y yo tratamos de comunicarnos con el mundo como podemos,
la mayor parte de las veces con poco éxito
(él con mucho más éxito que yo)
y nos inventamos canciones hey hey banana banana
en la noche fría y oscura de esta ciudad reseca y algo tenebrosa en la que vivimos

Caminamos y el me va dirigiendo como un lazarillo de otro mundo
a un ciego de este
“Quiero allí”
señala con el dedo
“Mira”
señala con el dedo
“Ayuda”
y le ayudo a subirse al muro de cemento
no tengo necesidad de más,
hago lo que me pide
no me complico
no podría

Luego abre los brazos,
se ríe y se lanza para que le
recoja en el aire

Ya con eso somos felices

Leo me llama cuando ya estoy lejos
caminando solo a mi casa
y viene con su bici rosa de aluminio sin pedales
para darme un abrazo de adiós

me agacho sin decir nada por que no se qué decir

Después, él se marcha de vuelta con su madre
y solo veo su cabecita rubia bajo las farolas del parque
y sus pies moviéndose rápido en el camino
Yo me quedo de pie mirando hacia atrás como un idiota
intentando comprender qué ha pasado
y tragándome unos enormes lagrimones
algo totalmente fuera de lugar para un tío con casi 40 años más que él
desarmado y frágil
como una hoja reseca al aire del invierno
y con la sensación de diluirme en el embudo de la calle
y el jodidamente infinito metro

pero con la sensación
de que podría
morir
con una sonrisa
en la cara