Against the Poetic Avant-Garde.

Wednesday 5 May 2010













Here my brother
follow me

onto this journey none can come
not the sun that wakes the south
nor the peace you left back home
or the friend you left back home also

the silence you heard
when the day was breaking still
the weeks before the road
the way she touched you on the leaving
none of this can come.

Forget the advice written on the maps
lose the where, the when you started
misplace your compass
ignore the auguries foretold
dismiss yourself

¿Will we unravel the trail?
¿Will we dissipate these clouds,
cleanse our footsteps on the march
feel a breeze in our souls?
¿What direction should we take?

Here my brother
watch
an ocean has been born in our path
we shall feel her hands in our feet
she will touch us quietly
her saline stroke opening the day.

Here my brother
walk with me
rename this afternoon forever
bring a gentle stride with you

let us cruise this sea
made from the marrow of the night

walk with me
take the first step
hoist your sails
out in the open land
we shall begin a journey
where there will be
no more beginnings.