Two nice poems (and I really am not a fan of poetry) by Luna Miguel, 19 year old wunderkind, via 3:AM Magazine.
Cave Lunam
Beware.
Mine is swine flu and malign.
Mine is Cow flu and mad Bird.
Mine is Nietzsche so poorly translated.
Watch my swollen veins,
inside I keep Panero’s slobbers.
Inside, the heart of a Kinder Egg
with no surprise:
Sylvia Plath Dead,
David Foster Wallace Dead,
Virginia, swimming butterfly, Dead.
Attention. Purple flag.
The flu of souls.
The flu of smoke.
The flu of codas and plucked
font.
Attention. They spread.
Beware.
I bite.
(From Poetry is not dead)
Everything Shaved
Everything shaved:
to the last eyelash
of this monotonous nightmare.
Everything shaved.
Everything false.
Punk imitation of a dead poet.
If Pizarnik raised,
will you do it,
you idiotic suicide,
who look from the reflection?
Everything shaved,
cunt or heart?
Does it matter since both smell of life
since both bleed and stain with love?
Everything shaved to feel the ice better.
Everything cold.
Everything very cold and beautiful.
Everything empty, for the last time.
(Previously unpublished)
Translation: Ángel Arqueros, Pedro J. Miguel and Kika Martínez
2010/09/21 at 07:02
Thank you very much.
:)
2010/09/21 at 07:20
Thanks for stopping by, I’ll be looking for more of your work.