Abarrotes Ave Fenix or The Theme of the Untranslatable

featured in the poetry forum March 2, 2024  :: 0 comments

When I remember the corner of Saturno
Down the roadway from the market where I grew up,
Past the façade of another grocery store
Which no longer exists,
I remember the shadows of the old school punks
Who no longer gather there to spike the morning,
Hairspray revenants, tar paving their wings and lungs,
Scarecrow constellations of steel studs and leather,
Outlined in asphalt like
The blotches on the screen that cannot be removed,
Television inside the metro showcasing:
Music videos and a clip featuring the Pope
Where he reflects on the nature of solitude,
And travel,
And your fellow being,
And time,
And returning home,

I think of Borges praising the English language,
His accent and gestures during an interview
Manifested in the living room where I stayed,
A time when color had not reached such transmissions
And had already left the eyes of the writer.

I relate to when he highlights the register
As blooming from its Latin and Germanic roots,
Ghost vs. Spirit or
Forgetting vs. Oblivion
It may be a way back without ever leaving.

editors note:

We all have a way back that we haven’t left. (We welcome Brian to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read a Spanish version of this poem and more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

Abarrotes Ave Fenix or The Theme of the Untranslatable

March 2, 2024  :: 0 comments

Cuando recuerdo la esquina de Saturno
Bajando la calle del tianguis donde crecí,
Cruzando la fachada de otra tienda
que ya no existe,
Recuerdo las sombras de los punks
Que ya no se juntan a beber ahí,
espantapájaros con sangre de alquitrán,
Constelaciones de estoperoles y piel rota,
Delineadas sobre el asfalto como
Manchas irremediables en la pantalla
Del televisor en el metro que muestra:
Videos musicales y una cápsula con el Papa
Donde reflexiona sobre la naturaleza de la soledad,
Del viaje,
Del prójimo,
Del tiempo,
Del regreso a casa,

Pienso en Borges afirmando que prefiere el inglés,
En su acento marcado durante una entrevista
Que se manifiesta en el departamento que renté,
Cuando el color aún no llegaba a la pantalla
Pero ya había abandonado al escritor.

Y me identifico cuando resalta el registro
Que conceden las raíces latinas y germánicas,
Ghost vs. Phantom
Forgetting vs. Oblivion
Es entonces que regreso sin siquiera haberme ido.

editors note:

Todos tenemos un camino de regreso del que no hemos salido. – mh clay

Interpreter request – Neurology – Follow Up

featured in the poetry forum October 10, 2023  :: 0 comments

The doctor said
Tell me the color of the square
Bellow the nice interpreter man
It’s the color of pumpkins
Autumn leaves
Dry papaya spears
The rising sun
Film reels burning
As sleep returns to you
Just noticed
I dropped my soul

editors note:

Pick it up quickly – 5 second rule applies. – mh clay

Sunflowers in the Median

featured in the poetry forum May 3, 2023  :: 0 comments

Nameless messenger, you come texting,
I stay to see what comes next in your script.
Forgive my name does not coincide
with Laura of your light’s query
youthful mirth, expendable income,
Free to hike tomorrow come morning.
Pulse inside my pocket, default ringtone,
Are you my sunflowers rushing past?
Fire in the corner of my eye?
You frigid dragon, peak hour traffic dream.
I sure would ditch my Kia Black Soul,
To the merriment of nameless banks
And I’d love you with my whole body,
My eyes stuck in the sky wetting the grass,
Your hapless vermin eating my flesh.
Can you be the stands selling peaches
By the roadside back to the city?
For my heart, doomed to never be mine?
Don’t sink back, please tell me the ending.
Every Laura is a memory.
Every messenger is terrifying.

editors note:

Wreck-less texting and driving. – mh clay