Three Poems

 

Chevy Bel Air. Photo: Noah Grezlak, Unsplash.

III

You bought your cousin’s
Chevrolet Belair ‘56
next you had a Pontiac Chief Star ‘55
two doors
you sold it to your brother
in law because he had just started working
in the public works department
then it was a Pontiac Bonneville ‘57
green
six cylinders
two tones
a bunch of cars came in two tones back then
grandma learned to drive in that car
you could fit yourself inside the trunk
it was one of the prettiest Pontiacs they put out
—you said
now, you take us
as you did then
by the sheep’s ankles
to the neighborhood’s clear water
in two tones
to see if we can signal the song
that chafes the air of the flamboyán trees
like the noise a puddle makes dying on the road
or the families that no longer have to rely on one another
to have a car to park out on the grass.

 

*

Gone are the things I always wanted
a picture of a fountain
the happy consent of the brief
the question we pose to the birds

 

*

it’s not like it’s stopped being a well
coins fall in it
I don’t hear them against the clay
and the rain has taken so long

Translated by Guillermo Rebollo Gil

Languages

LALT No. 14
Number 14

The fourteenth issue of Latin American Literature Today features dossiers dedicated to the dislocated writing of Latin American authors based in the United States and the gothic fiction of Mariana Enriquez, plus reflections on writing in a second language by Fabio Morábito, an interview with 2019 Alfaguara Prize winner Patricio Pron, and exclusive translation previews from Guadalupe Nettel, Gabriela Wiener, and Luis Alejandro Ordóñez.

Table of Contents

Editor's Note

Featured Author: Mariana Enriquez

Dislocating Writing: Latin America Rewrites Estados Unidos

Poetry

Fiction

Essays

Interviews

Brazilian Literature

Indigenous Literature

Translation Previews and New Releases

On Translation

Nota Bene