Caravana de soles distantes: 2 poemas de Eduardo Rodriguez

Jean-Gabriel Daragnès, Les Bijoux, Grabado en madera (1917)

THE LAST BREATH (INTO THE FIRE)

Let me take you down
‘cause I’m going to...
2020,
A dazed and weary
catatonic sea of fire,
Of plummeted desires
wrapped up in solitude
and sealed packets of lies.
And the constant hives
of the next advertised death,
And the bread that is spread
among the red hat army...
The sickening dandies
of the eye-turning,
limbo-loathing
washed up wrecks.

Let me take you down
‘cause I’m going to...
the Nowhere-land,
To the phantom dream
that lays downstream,
in distress...
gasping for air,
in the corner of the pavement,
courtesy of the latest blue horsemen of the apocalypse,
Those who, without a glimpse,
laid down a knee...
That self-imploded,
still recorded,
imperialist knee...
as heavy and derailed
as their voided souls..

Without a care in this world.
Without a flinch in their eyes.
Without a care for his days.

Let me take you to the ways...
of the deniers of science,
the clappers of wars,
the bankruptcy for workers,
the investors for Mars,
the scolders of the Press,
the advocates of Memes,
and the earthquakes everyday
in the Island of my dreams...
The island that is sacked,
without regard,
braised and mocked
By a two headed monster...
Abandoned to its luck.

Let me take you to the banquet,
the silent fest from the North.
Sorry!...
Boricuas not allowed.
Here are leftovers.... from last month.

Let me take you down
‘cause I’m going to...
2020,
And the debris of our very
Mortuary catwalk
Of fragmented hopes,
And the thorns
French-kissing the caged winds,
Shipwrecking the daydreams
expanding this road.

Let me take you abroad
this chapter
of suffocated laughter
and premeditated death.
This is the last breath...
The last drop,
The last riot.
I’m going to burn...
I’m going to burn...
I’m going higher and higher...
into the fire.
I’ll spread my wings up to the sun
and kiss our new day’s
burning woke desires.



METRO GIRL

Metro Girl,
Eres tan Metro Girl,
tan... tan Metro Girl...
Que la isla agujerea toda esa aura
Chica de jaula sanjuanera
Que despliegas donde quiera
El salitre que te llevaste el domingo,
La tostada sonrisa,
la enrizada brisa isabelina
Que frotaste en mi,
aquella tarde, antes de partir,
Con tu tan, tan... Metro vibe.
Y no descifro lo que hay,
No te descifro, Metro Girl.
Tu sonrisa es de imanes sellados,
Anclados en un conjuro impuro...
Cruel o fiel a la miel
de tu propio trueno,
Que retumba en libertad.

Eres caravana de soles distantes
Que sonrojan
mis domingos ingenuos.
Primavera de lunas amazónicas
Que encandecen
mis sábados sibéricos.
Tu incierto baile abandona
hileras de peñas
en la vasta costa
de mi continental silencio,
Nido de tardes tuertas,
rumiantes
y desesperantes intenciones de esculpirte
galaxias en el soplido.

Eres tan... tan Metro Girl
Que vas amordazando rugidos,
Sin saber
que las palmeras de Jobos
hoy se prenderán
con los agujereados latidos
de tu gris intención.
Aquí te dejo esta canción
Empapada de sol y arena
Y un popurrí de estrellas delatoras
Que se fuman las horas
de tu regreso,
tan fiel a tu miel.

Aqui estaré, Metro Girl,
Y sea lo que sea,
Bucearé entre las mareas
de tus reojos.
Dilataré tus suspiros
Entre urbanos arrecifes
y escondidas cicatrices.
Como quien anticipa deshojar los enigmas,
Desatormentar deseos,
Y gota a gota, diluviar los besos
que ayer partiste.