by

Javier O. Huerta

Arte Pblico Press Houston, Texas

Some Clarifications y otros poemas is made possible through grants from the City of Houston through the Houston Arts Alliance, the University of California at Irvine Chicano/Latino Literary Prize and by the Exemplar Program, a program of Americans for the Arts in Collaboration with the LarsonAllen Public Services Group, funded by the Ford Foundation.

Recovering the past, creating the future

Arte Pblico Press University of Houston 452 Cullen Performance Hall Houston, Texas 77204-2004

Cover design by Giovanni Mora Cover art by Zac Nelson

Huerta, Javier O. Some Clarifications, y otros poemas / by Javier O. Huerta. p. cm. ISBN: 978-1-55885-500-7 (alk. paper) I. Title PS3615.U38S66 2007 811.6dc22 2007060689 CIP The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Information SciencesPermanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984. 2007 Javier O. Huerta Printed in the United States of America
7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents
Advertisement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii Lost Pieces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 Sample of Thirteen Interviews . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Una espera de tres cuartos de hora . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 Ink all over my Hands . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Toward a Portrait of the Undocumented . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6 Seis Peregrinaciones . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Accidente geogrfico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Coyote . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 H . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Fences: A Scene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12 Das neolaredenses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Es suficiente decirlo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Friday, July 24, 1981 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 El indocumentado le canta a Mxico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 Cy Twomblys Untitled (Say Goodbye, Catullus, to the Shores of Asia Minor) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Desde el techo del Transco . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 Hurricane Alicia, Houston 1983 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Inventario . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24 A Couple of Considerations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
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El reflejo en la navaja . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 Mythical Lover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Velas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 amnesty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 terra nullius . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 La conjetura de los sueos: de Lost and Found: Passages through the Sonora Desert por Maeve Hickey . . . 31 The Loretto Chapel Stairs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Lo que nos pertenece . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Sonrisanidos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34 ad misericordiam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 reductio ad absurdum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 Blasphemous Elegy for May 14, 2003 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Sobre el pan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Some Clarifications . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42 El jardn de las delicias en portavasos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 poema sobre cmo tu reloj marca las 10:21 con 52 segundos desde que te conoc hace un ao . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 poem written on the occasion of reuniting with a woman who when she left said that I should miss her so much that I become blind in my right eye . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 Poema Plagiado . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46 On a Portrait a Friend Sketched of Me . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 The Good Apothecary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Rising Thunder . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 El antiguo problema . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 Apndice: Carta a Leslie Ullman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52

iv

As to m "self, I find it abso lutel" im p o ssible to p ro d uce a o rk o n this subject that shall be an" thing lik e co m p lete.
Joseph Priestley, E!p erim ents and Observatio ns o n Different Kind s o f Air

To d o p o em a # feito d e ar.
Ferreira Gullar

a mi am

Advertisement
The majority (if not all) of the poems in this collection are to be considered as imitations. No, they are more modest than that; they are experiments in the act of imitating. They were written with the chief purpose of ascertaining whether the poet could be removed from the center of the creative act. Readers accustomed to the adventurous language of many contemporary poets may find these poems to be too unoriginal and may even describe them as derivative. I expected a profound breath, they may say, but found only a lazy yawn. No word could be more insulting for a poet than derivative, but the author reminds his readers that the derivative nature of his poems is intentional. He intended to write poems derived from another source other than himself. Many of the poems borrow from more than one source, and many of the poems imitate other imitations. The problem is not that the poems are derivative but that they are intentionally derivative. Intention resituates the poet at the center of creation. The author offers this collection as nothing more than a record of his early attempts towards a poetics of modesty. Readers may also demand an explanation for the bilingual nature of the poetry. (Some monolingual readers may even askas several friends of the author who only read in English or in Spanish already havewhether they can acquire a copy of the book at half-price.) Although he finds satisfaction in the linguistic symmetry, the author never intended for half of the poems to be in English and the other half to be in Spanish. The choice of language actually relates to the authors fear that he would be accused of theft because of excessive imitation. In order to guard himself against such a charge, he attemptvii

ed to conceal the sources for poems by writing imitations of English poems in Spanish and vice versa. No other special reason exists for why a poem written in one language could not have been written in the second language. For instance, Lost Pieces is the authors English imitation of one of his Spanish poems. He, for some reason or another, decided to include the English imitation and exclude the Spanish original. Since Lost Pieces is the first poem, the collection opens with a self-imitation. The reader would be right to consider such an opening immodest. The author insists that the poem entitled Ink all over my Hands is the only poem in the collection that should not be considered a direct imitation. It arose out of conversation with a close friend who was somewhat irrationally attached to the letters of John Keats. Some readers may disapprove of what they interpret as inauthentic feelings resulting from the act of imitation. The laughter in these poems, they may say, is but a trick of mirrors. They may claim that the teardrops are the result not of sadness but of the application of eye drops. Worse: Nowhere in these poems does the word horizon appear norwhat is even more unforgivabledoes the word horizonte. The author will not respond to any complaints of this type. Let the reader be satisfied with what is on the page. Readers of superior judgment may further fault this collection for failingas many first books doto provide a satisfactory organizational structure. Feeling discomfort at the idea of a miscellany, readers may blame the authors wrong-headed obsession with imitation for his apparent disregard for architecture. In anticipation to such a complaint, the author provides the following response: My poetry is based on the mispronunciation of my name: Javier as have air. (I should say a mispronunciation because, although I find have air to be the most intriguing, people mispronounce my name in many different ways. My personal favorite is heavier because it describes me so well. Other acceptable mispronunciations: heavy air, heave air, hey bear, he be heir?, hobby air, j-bear, jay beer, jay be err, ha be a). In Es suficiente decirlo, I write, hay ms msica en ese nombre que en todas las operas y sinfonas. The celebration of my
viii

first name emphasizes the importance of being addressed by ones name. To have a name is to have air. This collection takes air, all of its different types, as its unifying principle. I welcome you, reader, to take notice of kites, hurricanes, hot air balloons, electric fans, hiccups, howls, windshields, candles, eagles, angels, whirlwinds, umbrellas, prophecies, clouds, trench coats, lips, veils, jokes, and tomorrows. Readers may think that the Spanish poem to which the author refers in his response is an obvious imitation of Whitmans celebration of the self, but the author describes Es suficiente decirlo as a no more modest than immodest imitation of Tomaz Salamuns imitations of Whitman. Let readers acknowledge that they enter the pages of this book forewarned. If at any time the reader abandons the journey and turns to the author with the accusation of you have stolen my enjoyment, the author (in an imitation of his mother) will point his finger in the readers face and say, Te lo advert.

ix

L-12 P'#!#1
The right eye has fallen off the doll sleeping under the bed. The tricycle sinking in the mud no longer has its ears. The Tonka truck has lost its teeth. The top without a nose sits in the trashcan. The lips of the kite in the puddle have split. (Sorry. I know how much my metaphors frustrate you. I will speak more directly.) You have tossed me aside like an old toy. Piece by piece I lose my face. Come back, Soledad. Play with me.

Sa+.*# -$ T&'02##, I,2#04'#51

must the supreme secret be told? fur is not enough to evoke the Name of Man signatuma system of roots? while studying Latin in Rome I can expose to all eyes the quiet avenues silences, negations, cruelties, fears, superstitions? to bequeath the image of an age in the temples of Japan? and this is not the least interesting point was not this the meaning of the double-face of Janus? this is the spot over and over again the destiny of nations? they have vanished puns and laughing and kissing what, then, is a miracle? but these numbers tell only part of the story, only animals as emblems? armed both with their traditional weapons only a caricature of their history? the fungus among us is humongous
2

was this by far the worst disaster yet? in the form of lovely youth and maidens did automatons hammer at the door? that night we ate rabbit stew again or is it the philosophy of the extraordinary? I do not understand music at all do analogies come to mind? the people on the bus obey the drivers instructions

U,a #1.#0a "# 20#1 !3a02-1 "# &-0a

luego el pauelo atado al ombligo luego las armas estilsticas luego la conversacin con el gusano mitolgico hablamos de mi difunto esposo luego la cuarta esfera donde se encuentran la gigantesca red el territorio enemigo y los guerreros invasores luego el fin iluminado luego el precioso consejo de un robot luego los sacerdotes en la nave luego una voz seca y clara luego las orejas luego la taberna de las maestras la vela y el terror de la regla de madera luego lo nico que tengo en el mundo luego el destornillador luego el cualquier da luego las semicolumnas que adornan las tiendas luego los carpinteros luego toda la sabidura a que tiene acceso un hombre no perdn luego la vainilla luego las palabras italianas sin comillas ni cursivas

I,) a** -4#0 +7 Ha,"1

Rinsing will not clean black ink. You have to scrub as hard as a cleaning lady on the 12th hour of her workday when shes washing the last toilet, the last spot of dried piss, thinking about going home to a dirty apartment and school discipline reports courtesy of her two boys whom she loves despite the resemblance to their father. She scrubs harder.

T-5a0" a P-020a'2 -$ 2&# U,"-!3+#,2#"

The economy is a puppeteer manipulating my feet. (Whos in control when you dance?) Pregnant with illegals, the Camaro labors up the road; soon, I will be born. I am the heat captured by infrared eyes. (Had you no life before this?) (Are you not the source of that warmth?) I am a night shadow; when la migra shines spotlights, I disperse. A body snatcher, I steal faces and walk among the people, unnoticed. I wear anonymity like an oversized trench coat; now and then, I flash. (Is your name perverse?) (Is your skin not your own?) (Are you not flesh?) Read me: I am a document without an official seal. (Who authored you?)
6

S#'1 P#0#%0',a!'-,#1
1. Caminaron por cuatro noches y cuatro das. Eran tres: un hombre, su esposa, su hijo. Seguan los rieles. No coman ni dorman. Se hablaban con los ojos cerrados. 2. Le escribo para informarle que su hijo falleci esta maana en el Ben Taub. El sol estaba ardiendo. Todava no encuentran al culpable. 3. Es la primera vez que Junior viaja por avin. Se parece ms a Alejandro que a ti. Es puro Aguilar. 4. Me encontr con doa Luz en el Metro. Estudiaba. Un da nos vamos a juntar otra vez en Refugio. 5. Lo conoc en una carnicera. Me sac a bailar. Mira, bonita, si quieres, bailamos sueltos y no nos tenemos que tocar. 6. Y qu vamos a hacer en Acua? No he terminado el segundo piso.

A!!'"#,2# %#-%08$'!En un bar una mujer trata de cantar pero le da hipo. En el fondo se oye la carcajada de un borracho. Al lado de l un mesero bosteza.

C-7-2#
Tu jefe es coyote, my cousins said. I was only six, so I pictured Father on all fours with tongue out, panting, on the prowl. No seas tonto, my cousins teased and laughter spread. I tried to smile. They never heard his paws scrape, scrape our window screen. Never saw him tear up our couch or knock over the kitchen table. They never heard my father growl. They did not have to take a trip to visit the razor wire. They were not speechless when keepers opened Fathers cage. They did not spend sleepless nights dreading they, too, would grow gray fur and fangs. They did not understand. No, they never fought the urge to howl.

H
a chipped tooth the top rung of a ladder an I tipped over an empty spool a TIE fighter a thumbtack on the bulletin board a bookshelf with no books a broken accordion an invisible man sleeping on a bench

10

2
una cobra que extraa la msica de su encantador un cisne que no reconoce su reflejo en el lago un viejo que reza de rodillas en un idioma desconocido

11

F#,!#1: A S!#,#
Dramatis Personae NIO, 10 years old SON, 19 years old FATHER, 47 years old Guards Prologue Lights up. Enter NIO. NIO: Te acuerdas de esos das, jefe? Alivinate, loco as me decas, jefe, cuando llegabas del jale, jefe, y yo te responda, rale, jefe pero ya hace un chingo que no te veo, jefe la neta que se siente bien feo, jefe no saber cundo vas a salir, jefe uno de estos das voy a ir, jefe a hacerte una visita, jefe por mientras trato de hacerle caso a la jefita, jefe y cuido a mi hermanita, jefe es que ella slo te conoce de nombre, jefe yo le digo que t eres buen hombre, jefe pos nombre, jefe Exit NIO.
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The Scene A prison. Enter FATHER led by Guards. GUARDS: Your son has come today to face the steel. FATHER: Loosen your hardened grip and bring him near. Show me his face. Oh, let my son appear. Enter SON. SON: Pap, your echos howl has brought me here. FATHER: Your eyes, your hair. I cannot help but stare. SON: Here: soap, shampoo, T-shirts, and underwear. FATHER: My mother? SON: Take this money. Your sisters wish you well. FATHER: Mi madre? SON: What about her? I have nothing to tell. FATHER: Does my mother live? Does she still love air? SON: You threw her away when you chose this lair. FATHER: Chose? No, my son. Not chose. SON: What then? FATHER: I fell. I walk, my eyes cast downa lost angel. SON: You chose this hell. You chose this mess. Guns. Mota. Coca. Crimes. Confess. FATHER: When I was ten, my playtime stopped. I worked inside a welders shop. I didnt want my mom to have a care. So I breathed in sparks like air.
13

SON: I, too, have known and feared fences: the ones behind you crowned with razor wire in prison photos signed pa que pienses en m at which Id stare and never tire. FATHER: Mi madre? Dime la verdad. What does she say? SON: Tanta maldad. FATHER: Tanta maldad? Tanta maldad? The only thing I havethis underwear. SON: Then I refuse to be your heir. FATHER: So you, too, abandon me. SON: I must go. Piensa en m. Exit SON. GUARDS: Your son has fled. Tell us what he said. Exit FATHER led by Guards. Lights down.

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D:a1 ,#-*a0#"#,1#1
dos o tres besos para que te chifles dos o tres pesos para dos o tres chicles dos o tres dientes para que mastiques dos o tres gigantes y dos o tres enanas dos o tres Pedro Infantes con dos o tres canas dos o tres paletas y una mangonada dos o tres chinetas y un am, no hice nada dos o tres cachuchas para dos o tres cabezas dos o tres fichas de dos o tres cervezas dos o tres tos y dos o tres primos en dos o tres los dos o tres salmos para dos o tres abuelas dos o tres maestras en dos o tres escuelas

15

dos o tres maneras de decir adis a dos o tres abecedarios mocoso, te hablan deja las canicas

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E1 13$'!'#,2# "#!'0*Sal de la cajuela del Camaro. Sal de atrs del nopal. Sal de abajo de la cama. De hoy en adelante no tendrs que esconderte. De hoy en adelante te llamars Javier. Es suficiente decirlo: Javier. Hay ms msica en ese nombre que en todas las operas y sinfonas. De ti cantan todos las guitarras. Escucha: dice el ro que se ha enamorado de ti. Regresa a su lado; desndate y entrgate. Deja que sus manos acaricien tus pies, tus piernas, tus rodillas, tus nalgas, tu pene, tu espalda, tu estmago, tu pecho, tus manos, tus brazos, tu boca, tu nariz, tus odos, tus ojos. Deja que el ro se ahogue en tu belleza. Javier eres el puente por donde pasa toda la historia del hombre. Eres la mujer que cruza para trabajar de mesera en el otro lado, el nio que vende chicles, la nia que vende crucifijos, la anciana que pide dlares y pesos, la familia que regresa despus de un da de compras, la muchacha que va apresurada para no llegar tarde a su clase, el grupo de muchachos que piensan encontrar el amor con el alcohol, el seor que piensa encontrar el amor con una prostituta, la seora a quien regresaron por no tener papeles, el joven que va en su bicicleta para ir a besar a su novia. Todo esto eres y mucho ms. Eres immenso.
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El mundo da vueltas al ritmo de tus pasos. Todos temblamos en tu presencia. Sal de la cajuela del Camaro Sal de atrs del nopal. Sal de abajo de la cama. Que hermoso eres Javier. Oye cmo te saludan las montaas, los edificios, las palomas, la arena, los zancudos, los gatos, el viento, los rboles, los carros, los semforos, las nubes, las hormigas, el camin, las piedras. . .

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F0'"a7, J3*7 24, 1981

Inside those seats there must have been a million of us.

19

E* ',"-!3+#,2a"- *# !a,2a a M96'!-

Te niego: cuando preguntan por mi madre les digo que mi camino ha sido el camino de un hurfano, que me desarroll en el vientre del Camaro, que fui el feto acurrucado en la cajuela, que cuando lleg el parto y sus dolores el motor solt gemidos y se averi, que se abri la cajuela y nac, que hambriento trat de mamar la tetilla pero no sali leche del mofle.
20

C7 T5-+ *7=1 Untitled (Sa! Goodb!e, Cat ll s, to the shores of Asia Minor)
The Twombly GalleryHouston, Texas

A child could not have drawn this. Maybe something more like 67 children. (Each with his or her own favorite ice cream.) And not just ordinary children. All 67 would have five arms each. And each arm would have three hands and each hand Would hold three brushes and two pencils. And, in his or her own way, each child would love and hate Catullus. Love him so much that they would crawl the streets of Rome in search of him. Hate him so much that they would crawl the streets of Rome in search of him. 335 arms to embrace him. 1005 hands to maul him. Catullus, give back all the beautiful words.

21

D#1"# #* 2#!&- "#* T0a,1!Tengo que convertir nada en verbo reflexivo para contar nuestra nulidad, nuestro silencio. Soy nadiense. Nada es mi patria. Mis compatriotas son los ningunos, los que se esconden, los que viven en las sombras de los edificios. Desde el techo del Transco fijo mis ojos hacia el sur pero mi vista no te alcanza, Mxico.

22

H300'!a,# A*'!'a, H-312-, 1983

The ground vomited roots of trees. When the air calmed, the wet earth grew hungry again. And swallowed our undocumented feet.

23

I,4#,2a0'Hay un telfono chimuelo. Hay una lmpara jorobada que pide limosna. Hay una escoba anorxica que pierde el pelo. Hay una almohada con camisa de fuerza. Hay una mesa invlida. Hay dos sillas que atienden a la mesa. No hay cama. Hay una plancha que reza. No hay cuadros. No hay espejo. Hay una fila de zapatos en guardia. Hay un reloj que se carcajea. Hay un abanico que niega con la cabeza los besos que le pido.

24

A C-3.*# -$ C-,1'"#0a2'-,1
I. On Form when her brother flung her from the hilltop Coyolxauhqui landed and broke apart her head and legs and arms scattered on the ground in perfect orbit around her torso II. On Imitation it is written that Jesus of Nazareth molded out of clay the likeness of a bird then breathed into the figure which awakened and took wing

25

E* 0#$*#(- #, *a ,a4a(a
Perdn por los ojos que an tiemblan en sus cuencas. Perdn por las esferas que se estrellan contra el piso. Perdn por el reflejo en la navaja, la navaja en el reflejo. Perdn por la sangre. Perdn por los ojos que an tiemblan en sus cuencas. Perdn por los gritos que huyeron hacia adentro: no pasa una noche en que no oiga el eco. Perdn por las esferas que se estrellan contra el piso. Perdn por no haber pintado de amarillo todo lo que es rojo. Perdn por la noche. Perdn por los ojos que an tiemblan en sus cuencas. Perdn por no haber despedazado las paredes, por no haberme tragado la cara del monstruo. Perdn por las esferas que se estrellan contra el piso. Perdn por no haber levantado armas contra los dioses. Perdn por no haberme vengado de la luna y las estrellas. Perdn por las esferas que an tiemblan en sus cuencas. Perdn por los ojos que se estrellan contra el piso.

26

M72&'!a* L-4#0
There was a man who loved. It is not important to know his name. Only that he bought his beloved some flowers. It is not important to know what type of flowers. Only that he placed them, along with a brief note, underneath her windshield wiper. It is not important to know what the note said. Only that he did not sign his name while writing hers in bold letters. It is not important to know her name. Only that he misspelled it. Later he received a phone call and denied leaving the note and flowers. It is not important to know how long they talked. Only that the receiver, now and then, lightly touched his lips.

27

V#*a1
Tu cuerpo es mi religin. No inventes. En serio, no vuelvo a mencionar tu cuerpo en vano. No seas ridculo. No habr otro cuerpo antes del tuyo. No digas esas cosas. Y de tu cuerpo no har dolos ni imgenes. Cmo molestas. Te voy a abrir las piernas como Moiss abri en dos el mar rojo. Es que Moiss nunca entr a la tierra prometida.

28

a+,#127
mi mano hacia ti me animast me amenazast mira noms ste mano, no seas as a m me necesitas amnesia sin ti amn estoy amistad? no s am? no, s a ti? ah, menos a ti no nac de ti amanec en ti manaa al oeste

29

2#00a ,3**'31
street lights bow in prayer solemn as a bus stop on a sunday night

30

La !-,(#230a "# *-1 13#;-1: "# Lost and Fo nd: Passages thro gh the Sonora Desert .-0 Ma#4# H'!)#7
The Centennial Museum, University of Texas at El Paso
Many of those objectsfrom babys shoe to bicycle, from toothbrush to written prayerare gathered and reanimated by Hickey as well, in these boxed pieces that suggest the conjecture of dreams. Lawrence J. Taylor

Quizs se puede confundir un cinto marrn con una serpiente, una bicicleta con anteojos. Tal vez es posible, en el calor de ese desierto, confundir una cachucha azul con una laguna o confundir una camisa de mangas largas tendida en un arbusto con una guila. No es improbable que al mirar un calcetn blanco con rayas azules sobre una piedra uno piense que las nubes besan la tierra. S, es posible en ese desierto ver la puerta del cielo abrirse y escuchar los ngeles cantar al slo mirar un zapatito blanco sin cintas.

31

T&# L-0#22- C&a.#* S2a'01

Santa Fe, New Mexico more than a miracle you mysterium tremendum you diabolic drill bit you whirlwind you nostalgia for the heavens you deformed horn of the unicorn you thirty-three wooden teeth you twisted spine of the hunchback you biography of a wrinkle you

32

L- /3# ,-1 .#02#,#!#

la sombra de las montaas sobre la ciudad vecina no ni el hotel histrico ni los museos ni las tiendas tampoco el ruido de los autos en la autopista tampoco los gritos de los nios que juegan en la calle el rbol las ramas las hojas no las hormigas el viento las nubes no ni las luces ni el da ni la noche ni la maana no nada de eso ni siquiera las manchas de nuestros dedos en la ventana

33

S-,0'1a,'"-1
o do abso luto sintoniasado entr() el ex ceso y la arquitectortura cat logos del minianimalismo hijosojosajos con (s gente) por los chistes que contar: de(dos) ms da(dos) es edad (cuatro)

pero las damas estn dems

34

a" +'1#0'!-0"'a+
nunca nos convencern los llantos de la cafetera

35

0#"3!2'- a" a 130"3+

open umbrellas spin up side down in the atrium out side pigeons mumble

36

B*a1.&#+-31 E*#%7 $-0 Ma7 14, 2003

exhale: breathe out, give off, let out, send forth, throw out, cast out, blow, blast, fan, gasp, heave, huff, pant, puff, whiff, whisper, whistle, sigh, wheeze, disembogue, expectorate, expel, ooze the abandoned trailer exhaled a ninety-nine headed beast ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston ella me espera en Houston I modestly propose that every year on the 14th day of May as a way to memorialize the 19 journeyers we hold our breathbetter yet, that we abstain from breathingfor a period of 24 hours so
37

that one year we might come to asphyxiate the 14th of May. I offer this proposal not for the sake of vengeance but for the sake of proving to ourselves that we are, indeed, more than human. Jos Felicito Figueroa Gutirrez edad desconocida de Honduras Catarino Gonzlez Merino edad desconocida de Mxico Mateo Salgado Prez edad desconocidad de Mxico Hctor Ramrez Robles 34 aos de Mxico Chelve Bentez Jaramillo edad desconocida de Mxico Rogelio Domnguez Bentez edad desconocida de Mxico Jorge Mauricio Torres Herrera 15 aos de El Salvador Roberto Rivera Gmez 24 aos de Juventino Rosas, Guanajuato Serafn Rivera Gmez 34 aos de Juventino Rosas, Guanajuato Elisendo Cabanas Gonzlez 27 aos de Tulcingo del Valle, Puebla Marco Antonio Villaseor Acua 5 aos de la Ciudad de Mxico Jos Antonio Villaseor Len 31 aos de la Ciudad de Mxico Edgar Gabriel Hernndez Ziga 17 aos de Crdenas, San Luis Potos Juan Carlos Castillo Loredo 20 aos de Crdenas, San Luis Potos Ricardo Gonzlez Mata 24 aos de Plan de Iguala, San Luis Potos Oscar Gonzlez Guerrero 18 aos de Plan de Iguala, San Luis Potos Jos Lus Ramrez Bravo 21 aos de Ajuchitln del Progreso, Guerrero Juan Jos Morales 24 aos de Nuevo Len Augusto Stanley Vargas 31 aos de Repblica Dominicana gentlemen, that the beast ran off terrified I
38

do not believe nor do I believe that it gnawed off its limp and lifeless heads besides such a beast would have ninety-nine stomachs each full of urine and sweat yet its hunger and thirst would continue what nonsense understand this clearly there is no beast only an indeterminate number of survivors 19 bodies
39

and an infinity of noses inhale: drag, draw in, gasp, inspire, insufflate, respire, sniff, suck in, absorb, consume, annihilate, appreciate, rejoice in, relish, revel in, devour the abandoned trailer inhaled our teddy bears affair aware bare bear beware billionaire blare care chair compare concessionaire dare debonair declare despair disrepair doctrinaire ensnare extraordinaire fair forswear foursquare glare hair hare heir impair lair mare millionaire pair pear prayer prepare questionnaire rare repair scare share snare solitaire spare square stair stare tear their there theyre unaware underwear unfair ware wear where Parece que va a llover. No hay para atrs. De amor. Sganme. Es un fenmeno. El cielo se est nublando. La necesidad de nuestros pases. Los buenos. A esta triste cancin. Vi fotos del nio. No contaban. Hay una linda regin. No s si sera eso. Con mi astucia. Para darle vida. Asinas. Una mancha y un ramo. Tengo todos mis movimientos. Ni modo. Las mismas pesadillas. Unieron sus almas. Mi cuado y sus dos tos. Yo no los mat. Ay, Mam, me estoy mojando. Pi pipi pipi. En la eternidad. Perfectamente calculados. Luego cambian la pgina. Nunca te podr olvidar. Ya ya ya ya ya.

40

S- 0# #* .a,
No digan que el pan es un cojn. Menos una almohada. Y no se atrevan a decir que es una nube. El pan es pan. Nuestros estmagos no tienen derecho a ms.

41

S-+# C*a0'$'!a2'-,1
That is not a coffin. It is a treasure chest full of family artifacts. That is not an empty chair. It is a staircase in a one-story house. That is not a woman wrecked on the floor. It is a rolled-up Persian rug. That is not a young man praying. It is a coat rack. That is not a wrinkled grandmother. It is a pile of dirty laundry. That is not a priest making the sign of the cross. It is a mover deciding what goes in the truck first.

42

El jard"n de las delicias #, .-02a4a1-1

. . . el ratn anaranjado es nuestro gua; el camello nos sigue; desnudos a caballos protegemos la rama; los dems . . . . . . adentro de la esfera azul nos tocamos y disfrutamos de nuestros cuerpos; afuera nadan los inocentes; no nos damos cuenta de las fisuras en la esfera; el agua no nos ofrece . . . . . . nos queremos acercar al coro de las rubias; las garzas bailan sobre sus cabezas; una sombra rapta a una rubia; una sombra se esconde entre el coro; una sombra . . . . . . un pjaro nos pica las nalgas; al fin se encuentran la sirena y su amado; un brazo le da una manzana a la piraa; para levantar la fresa tenemos que . . . . . . el venado desea un beso; el burro desea conocer a la garza; nosotros deseamos entender por qu el arco . . . . . . el ratn-garza sostiene la cereza con su pico; entre todos podremos alcanzarla; nosotros alzamos las manos; ustedes con sus hombros levanten la . . .

43

.-#+a 1- 0# !<+- #* 0#*-( #, 23 a;- +a0!a *a1 10:21 !-, 52 1#%3,"-1 "#1"# /3# 2# !-,-!: &a!# 3, a;en un instante he aprendido mil maneras de arrodillarme y besar la tierra mil maneras de medir la distancia entre mis hombros y tus rodillas mil maneras de tejer una bufanda de cocinar un huevo de tender la cama de doblar mis camisas de arreglar las estrellas he aprendido mil maneras de nombrar tus ojos Baby, he comprado pilas para tu reloj. Quiero salir de este instante y entrar al siguente contigo. Son las 10:21 con 53 segundos y quiero aprender mil maneras de limpiar la mugre en tus uas.

44

.-#+ 50'22#, -, 2&# -!!a1'-, -$ 0#3,'2',% 5'2& a 5-+a, 5&- 5&#, 1&# *#$2 1a'" 2&a2 I 1&-3*" +'11 &#0 1- +3!& 2&a2 I #!-+# *'," ', +7 0'%&2 #7#
a pair of detached wings soars in the sky o strange vision! they must belong to an angel yes an angel who is condemned to walk the earth no you say look closer that is an invisible eagle becoming visible again

45

P-#+a P*a%'a"Come join the Chuco Town Punk Army Noche del Grito: an evening of swirling veils, flashing swords, iron bars on all windows and doors. Well be meeting w/ the philosophy professors. Asiste y lleva tu vela. Se vende cerveza para mayores. For sale: Creed utilities paid, laudry room, and own bathroom. We also have other packages to suit your needs. First come. First serve. Please be advised that the Pillar will record, mix, and master. Well push you to the edge and tell you to jump. Page me and Ill give you the specs. All answers will be anonymous. Lets get in touch. Dame la mano. Dont miss the kiss.

46

O, a P-020a'2 a F0'#," S)#2!&#" -$ M#

hair: a sparrows nest eyebrows: two black centipedes inching towards each other forehead: storm clouds nose: a marble statue of a naked woman from behind eyes: left and right thumbprints beard: ashes lips: two lovers in a sleeping bag

47

T&# G--" A.-2&#!a07

Those nights he wanted just a bit of music. He would go up in a balloon, his legs dangling almost to the ground. He wished to forget the six hundred volumes of miserable details. Once he dressed in a beautiful Turkish costume and read a breviary to a plaster priest. That annoying speck in his right eye, something truly forbidden in a child. He looked down from his balloon, but the people simply stopped singing. He would always be a student in strange barbershops.

48

R'1',% T&3,"#0
I came to translate the mountain. But the mountain did not speak. I gave it a name: O Rising Thunder. But the mountain did not speak. I danced in a circle and chanted its name. I sacrificed a scorpion and left it at its feet. But the mountain did not speak. I sang its past: The Daughter of the Storm God fell in love with the King of the Rhinos. Forbidden, they only saw each other on moonless nights, and in that darkness they made love. When her father discovered that Storm Princess was pregnant, Storm God ripped the fetus from her body and thrust the unborn. Oh! the thunder that shook the world when you crashed to the earth! But the mountain did not speak. I celebrated its present: The surrounding peoples believe that the stone from the mountain arranged in the form of a horn around a birthgiving mother will bring forth a strong and healthy infant. You, Rising Thunder, Guardian of Infants. But the mountain did not speak. I cut my chest, smearing the blood over my naked torso, and embraced the mountain for five days and five nights. But the mountain did not speak. I prophesied its future:

49

You will rise again to avenge the deaths of your mother and father. O Storm God, how you fear the horn and thunder of your grandson! It is said that on a moonless night Rising Thunder will rip through the heavens. But the mountain did not speak. I cursed: What then? Are you to be nothing more than silent stone? For nine years I have apprenticed myself to its silence.

50

E* a,2'%3- .0- *#+a

debo confesrtelo maana me llevar el gato

51

A.9,"'!#: Ca02a a L#1*'# U**+a,

Querida maestra, poeta de arena: Hoy me inform de su retiro. Que atranquen las puertas de Worrel Hall. Que nadie vuelva a entrar a ese sacred space. Que los pasillos queden vacos para siempre. O El Paso, te has quedado sin poesa. Ahora no s a qu direccin escribirle. Ya va ms de un ao que le debo una carta. Perdone el silencio. Maestra, tengo buenas noticias. No s si ya le han dicho que mi manuscrito (bueno, debo de decir nuestro manuscrito) recibi el Premio Literario Chicano/Latino de la Universidad de California en Irvine. Como parte del premio la editorial Arte Pblico Press publicar mi libro de poemas. Nada de esto sera posible sin usted. Usted merece ms que mis gracias. Con su permiso, le regalo estas cosas: un charco para brincar; un paraguas que no para aguas, aguas; una bolsa de ropa sucia; un apartamento abandonado. S que no es mucho. Pero tal vez puedo encontrar ms cosas para regalarle. S, mire, aqu le tengo ms regalos: una mueca que encontr debajo de mi cama; tres coyotes que atrap en el desierto de Nuevo Mexico; una caja de chicles que compr en Tijuana; unas flores que encontr en el parabrisas de un carro rojo. Y eso no es todo. Reciba, maestra, el bus 49 Chimney Rock que me llevaba a mi casa cuando asista a la U of H; las diez cuadras que caminaba de Pilgrim Elementary a la casa de mi madre; la gabardina verde que usaba en high school; las calificaciones que recib en Guadalupe Aztlan; el laptop que usaba para escribir mis trabajos en UTEP. Le regalo el libro que escribir sobre mi educacin: (tentativa52

mente titulado) La tarea me marea: la educacin esttica de Javier Omar Huerta Gomez. El ltimo captulo ser una serie de dilogos con Leslie Ullman. Hablaremos de la arena con todas sus consequencias. Pero eso no es suficiente. Le regalo estas cinco metforas: 1.) Te mostrar lo que es la alegra en un puo de confeti. 2.) Te mostrar lo que es la ausencia en un puo de dientes. 3.) Te mostrar lo que es la posibilidad en un puo de sillas. 4.) Te mostrar lo que es el amor en un puo de puentes. 5.) Te mostrar lo que es la incertidumbre en un puo de cejas. Ms que cinco metforas le doy el nmero 5 y el accento sobre la a de metfora. Reciba tambin mis pobres traducciones de Catulo. Tenga: el huracn de 1983. Tenga: la ciudad de Santa Fe. Tenga: un cajon vaco; el aire que cae de la montaa; una torta de pollo; un milagro; una caricatura; una dulcera; 45 minutos; dos o tres borrachos; el viernes 24 de julio de 1981; una cancin del Tri; todos los personajes de Chespirito; un estmago; una cereza; un gato; un globo; dos o tres mudanzas. Por ltimo le regalo la inicial de mi segundo nombre. La O es ms que una letra o que un nmero. La O es la presencia de la nada. Es la piedra de Ssifo; es el paracadas de Altazor; es el autoretrato de John Keats; es la cuenca izquierda de Robert Creeley; la O es la sed del deseo. Maestra, le regalo el poder de la apstrofe. Bueno, tambin, si quiere, le regalo el mar. Reciba, maestra, estos pobres regalos de su estudiante. La respeta siempre, Javier Huerta

P.D.Perdn. No debera haberle regalado el aire. Es que no me pertenece. Llevo 33 aos en este mundo y an no he aprendido a quin le pertenece el aire. 21 de febrero de 2006, Oakland.

53

Agradecimientos
Grateful acknowledgement is made to the editors of the following publications where these poems first appeared: 580 Split: Blasphemous Elegy for May 14, 2003. BorderSenses: El reflejo en la navaja, El indocumentado le canta a Mxico. el perro: Das neolaredenses. Houston Poetry Fest Anthology (1999): Ink all over my Hands as My Apologies. Junta: Avant-Garde Latino Writing: reduction ad absurdum. Punto de Partida: 2, Desde el techo del Trasco, Lo que nos pertenece, La conjetura de los sueos: de Lost and Found: Passages through the Sonora Desert por Maeve Hickey. Red, White, and Blues: Poets on the Promise of America: Toward a Portrait of the Undocumented. Rio Grande Review: Some Clarifications, Mythical Lover, Sobre el pan. I would like to thank Juan Bruce-Novoa and the Spanish and Portuguese Department at UC Irvine for maintaining the rich tradition of the Chicano/Latino Literary Prize. I am indebted to Valerie Martinez for selecting my work and allowing me to become part of that great history. I am both honored and humbled. The poetry in this book is a product of the Bilingual MFA Creative Writing Program at UTEP. I wish to express my gratitude to my teachers: Leslie Ullman, Ben Saenz, Emmy Perez, Johnny Payne, Lex Williford, and Rosa Alcala. I am most grateful to my classmates, who made El Paso, Texas the center of the literary world.