nthposition online magazine

Translations of five poems by Julia Piera

by Forrest Gander

[ poetry - july 11 ]

Julia Piera (Madrid, 1970) has published the books Conversaciones con Mary Shelley (Icaria, 2006), Al vértice de la arena (Biblioteca Nueva, 2003) and Igual que esos pájaros disecados (Hojas de Zenobia, 2004). Her most recent poetry collection, Puerto Rico Digital (Bartleby, 2009), was a finalist for the Ausiás March Prize and for the National Critics Prize, 2010. The poems included here are part of Panic Cure: Ten Innovative Contemporary Poets from Spain, edited and translated by Forrest Gander.

She offers her resume through her bitch:
     "doesn’t distinguish between love and cocaine"
     terminal hurricane pace or corrosive urban animal

     what pigeon to poison if they clone it with wind?
     which rat’s tail to chop
     if they squeal?, photocopied bacteria,
     before cooking, the Chinese, their teeth?
*
And so it begins again,
     lugging the politics of fear on her shoulders
     teeth sweating pure rage
     a chest for the fencing of sobs

      between garbage, screen,
     cumulus succubus of garbage...
     the terror with a cursor in its burned little hand
     screensavers, multiethnic
     "personalized," just for her,

     from a white balcony
          of grates and pitas
                the b. skips,
                    digital gladiolus

                         and something immense
                         plunges

 

Returning quickly one morning, dawn,
     discovering another digital gladiolus, grown, its root in the computer.

     Hybrid. Reproving with each movement of its single leaf,
     round bubble, inner mirror of the display itself
     opening toward her like an imax fan,

     making plans with planispheric fingers
     this patchwork island
     its guts stitched to passports

      the green worlds,
     botanical giants in Utuado,
          an urge for a food word
          typing
          "reservation", "Guinean", "banana plantation"

 

She smelled the life container
in the jars of cream
offerings of a disheveled body
she nibbled behind the ear
while thinking
"I believe there’s some language missing"

then she turned, all heat, swinging her three hips,
her eyelids given over to the carousel of the room,
"here I’ll sleep well"

 

"this is an awful condition"
while rats trail us we’re looking for the source
of a source that has no source

she loses her passport
blue, ripe, she falls
to the bottom of an island
with the noise of her page body
belly button pierced swollen
from inserting ink and sand
mixed with sun
in her meat-hole

screwball.

"Smells like iron,
screwball,
the page body.”

Island in a leukocyte corner
     falling and rolling

     "Screwball, yeah you..."

     document’s coagulum

               hanging there