We
entered an unfamiliar house
while
the owners slept
one
of them got up with a wrinkled shirt to say:
“Do
whatever you want...!” So, we sat at the empty table
not
eating
not
drinking
The
owners of the house continued to sleep. Why’d we stay there?
My
friend was looking for something
a
little heat
or
drugs
but
the table offered nothing.
Only
a piece of paper
folded
hand-written
and
forgotten by those who never expected visitors.
It
was two o'clock
in
the house and
I
decided to look around.
With
capital letters
the
note said
DO
EVERYTHING ALREADY.
To
imagine detailing every little thing
when
I write
with
that phrase
I
wouldn’t be afraid
of
being read.
Only
when your health is poor
do
you see little stars all around.
The
doctor can say
tell
me if you see stars
because
usually they aren’t seen.
Usually
you see other things
or
you see stars in the sky
and
even have scientific thoughts
the
southern cross
the
three marys
the
morning star
that’s
born first
and
dies last.
Or
you could look at the sky and imagine connecting with someone:
at
twelve we both looked at that star and decided
go
for it?
Once
a
photographer came over
very
sincere
with
a big camera
she
said
I
wasted
my
life
that
I could be much happier
than
I was
Happier
how?
The
photographer told me
that
if I focused, if I looked
through
a telephoto lens
I
could find a way
to
be happier.
That
week it didn't stopped raining
the
balcony was full of leaves and dirt
and
the windowpanes
looked
dismal.
As
it was Saturday, even if she did come
I
wanted to clean
I
said, how about doing a series
of
photos called
exposing
a
woman cleaning her house.
I
put detergent in a bowl
with
lots of water
and
started to scrub the glass
until
it filled with suds
glowing
and exploding
then
I threw
hot
water on them
the
sun
at
11 in the morning
would
evaporate it faster
she
took pictures of the puddles
and
through the window
where
my hair was flying
I
didn’t care
about
my hair covering
my
face
it
always went to-and-fro
with
my arms
as
it passed the cloth or the sponge
and
I felt it’d look good
in
the photos.
I
remembered a cubist painting
where
there are bubbles
an
iron, little doilies with lace
and
a diary.
These poems originally appeared in Liebre (Ediciones Vox, 2015).
