Three Poems

 

Street view in Mérida, Venezuela. Photo: Jose Gil, Unsplash.

A Stroll

Look, tombs.
No, they are bodies.
No, they are dead forms of memory.
No, they are tired forms of memory.

Look, epitaphs.
No, they are poems.
No, they are tombstones with familiar names.
No, they are voices.
No, they are words being laid to rest.

Look, eyes.
No, they are symbols.
No, they are vessels where images are broken.
No, they are stones.
No, they are the remains of your house.
Remains.

 

Marking Out the Ruins

Here is the space of memory
here is the game of epitaphs
names raining down on a spacious cemetery

homeland: scene of death
homeland: open field for scars

 

Homeland

The homeland is nothing
it is memory
dust and dread
powder on the skin
a ghost costume
that breaks through walls
and makes the whole house cough

homeland
homeland
homeland

(repeating something mute)
(addressing a skull)
(the name of a dog and a fake rose)
(a mantra to dissolve stains on the wall)

Translated by Colaborativo Ávila

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