Gabriela Luzzi : City, translated from the Spanish by kevin mcpherson eckhoff

 

 

 

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.

 

  

 

 

Gabriela Luzzi was born in Rawson, Argentina, in 1974. Her books include El Resto de los Seres Vivos (Editorial Conejos, 2016), Warnes (Eloísa Cartonera, 2016), Un Alhajero sin Terminar (Santos Locos, 2016), and Liebre (Ediciones Vox, 2015), while her work has been anthologized and featured in such events as Veni Vidi Vici, The Madonna Project, and 53/70: Argentine Poetry of the XXI Century. She currently operates the small press Paisanita Editora.

kevin mcpherson eckhoff is a writer, teacher, editor, and actor. His work has been anthologized in The New Concrete and Why Poetry Sucks and the forthcoming Experimental Praxis. His most recent book is their biography (BookHug, 2015) and his fifth book, The Pain Itself, is forthcoming from Insert Blanc Press. He currently occupies the traditional Syilx territories where Okanagan College pays him to hang out with rad student folks.

These poems originally appeared in Liebre (Ediciones Vox, 2015).