12 April 2010

four poems: in paris

I wrote these for an assignment, which was first to write a love poem without any pronouns, and second to make a series in which only 25, 50, and 75% of the poem is represented. I'm not so sure about "experimental poetry," but because I decided to write a bit about Argentine tango (getting rid of pronouns by making people into shoes), and to some extent the cliché (oh, the very real cliché, what's with that?), you get to read it... Et voila.


IN PARIS
I.
In the Argentine tango one shoe longs for a partner,
Seeking always the displacement of a sole
In the slow brush of a leg, the grip of a thigh.
Separated by languages and nations –
-- hecho en Buenos Aires
fabriqué en France –
Leather, suede, gold becomes flesh and finds
As flesh never fails to find
A shadowed counterpart in a heel, a strap, a lace…


… A milonguero is a lonely man,
A milonguera a troubled woman.
At the end of a dance
To remember a name is useless,
While like a panther the leather flesh senses across the room
A new lover: more stylish, younger,
Perhaps more experienced, burning eternally
To step in the space of a sole
On a night of champagne and violins.


II.
The Argentine longs for a partner,
Seeking always in the slow brush of the grip of a
Buenos Aires
France –
Leather, suede, gold
never fails to find
A counterpart in a heel, a strap, a lace…
… A milonguero is
A milonguera is useless.
Like a panther the flesh senses across the
Lover, younger
Perhaps more
To step in the space of a night.


III.
Displacement
In the grip of languages and nations –


fabriqué en France
A shadow…
a lonely man,
a woman.
a dance
a name
a panther
A new lover
in the
night.


IV.
In the one shoe for a partner,
Seeking always the displacement of a…
…In the slow brush of a leg, the grip of a thigh.
Separated by languages and nations –
-- hecho en Buenos Aires
fabriqué en France –
Leather, suede, gold becomes flesh and finds
As flesh never fails to find
A shadowed counterpart in a heel, a strap, a lace
is a lonely man,
a troubled woman
At the end.
To remember is useless.
While a panther, the leather flesh, senses the room
A lover more stylish, younger,
Perhaps experienced eternally
To step in champagne.
-j.a.

1 comment:

Margo Romero said...

Loved the poem. xoxoxo