5:49

Falling asleep finally, after reading Neruda,
I slowly trace invaluable and impractical steps
that divide time, active and spent, into drawers.

His cantos help serenade what we call love,
itself often left unrequited and ignored,
weighed down by countless disappointments.

After reading, sleeping, waking and
re-reading, re-sleeping, I gather inertia
and understand the reasons for writing it all down.

Wistful, furrowed pen strokes outline on paper,
memory that is stripped of pride, pained with time,
unruly and soggy and wet and warped.

New actions start to replace past steps taken;
my own new rhythms and stanzas, Chilean even,
help distract from the pain of renewal.

Without these past remembrances, though stinging,
the lack of ache of past pains nags like an unfed dog
biting hard and defeated, at frayed pant legs.

Relief is barren, rising and falling with tide,
smoothing failures, filling fissures with salt and
weakened stitches that never satisfy fully.

Ciclón

Amó por diez años y dejo de amar por tres.
Como un ciclón o una lluvia tropical,
la fase amorosa mojo sus huesos y rincones.

La humedad dolorosa forzó que limpiara todo
por dentro tanto como afuera con cuidado.

No encontró bichos ni hongos, pero si halló una
nueva necesidad de mantener la lluvia afuera
para no arriesgar el orden de sus huesos limpios.

Amó por diez años y dejo de amar por tres,
y con ese tiempo, aprendió que lo importante
de estar enamorada, es mantener balance y perspectiva.

Cuando finalmente secó todos sus rincones,
la lluvia dejó de caer y el sol salió a brindar con ella.

La luz, con su energía de movimiento, le ayudo
a ver el mapa de su vida, y con sus convicciones bacías de agua,
empezó a caminar con dirección y propósito.

Watermelon

Watermelons are great because of their seeds
that shoot out memories of childhood competitions.
Thickly rinded, they hold within them Summer’s weight,
full of watery sweet pinkness that refreshes and reminds us
of fireflies and barbeques and sweat and sugar.
Gigantic, striped and unromantic, these oversized berries
use their mass to spread solid hydration, combating heat and blues.

On the Patio

Charged, bellies full of bubbles
and anger and wheats, they
splay themselves open so
that the words dance.

There is familial love between them.

Prehistoric, semi-aquatic and firm,
their respect shows itself in flames
with the seed of cotton, the ember’s
baritone glow suggesting mischief.

The repeating union always produces light.

Roots

Tree roots and tooth roots center
themselves deep into dirt and tissue,
nourishment and communication signals
travelling up and out their ends.

Tooth roots can be hollowed out and
stepped on and cemented,
leaving fresh enamel clean and barren,
without pain or meaning to give notice with.

Tree roots can be cut in two and
yanked free and burned,
leaving chlorophylled organs confused,
themselves wilting from lack of food and talk.