The following two unedited poems were published on the Revista Ombligo blog. They’ll be appearing in Luna Miguel's forthcoming book of poetry, Los estómagos (The Stomachs). My English translation of the two follows:
ROTTING OF THE HEART, OR BLACK HEART
I believe in mites,
in the way in which mites stick to our scum.
I believe in the feline respiratory system,
in its astute and agitated cough. In its obituary cough.
I believe in interspecies love,
in the brotherly wink of a fed pet.
I believe in what I create and what I invent,
in the color of contagious fruits.
I believe in cooking, in aroma, in baby food,
in the filth when the summer dairy’s expired.
I believe in calico fur,
in the metaphor of Buddha’s jaw.
I believe in simple friendships, in jasmine,
I blindly believe in the color black,
in the way in which its hunger embraces our scum.
MY FATHER EATS LAMB
Teresa’s veggie cakes made you nervous
you needed something drier
something more like yourselves, like meat
that’s why you threw rocks at big mountain cats
that’s you chucked rocks at big rats
that’s why you looked at the rain with surprise
as if you were rational underneath that cloud.
The dog barks at the eagle,
the cat bites the the robin
further below the foals and mama
each one more famished.
I miss the micro climate,
the ancient copy of Thomas Mann
getting damp in the hammock
excellently translated according to the blurb
The butterfly fled and we were hungry
that’s why the color green scares you
that’s why you threw rocks at the fruit trees
and you love that which is yours because it’s only your own
and you love that silence which flesh has.