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miércoles, 7 de agosto de 2013


Brittany Wallace (1987) vive en Ohio, EE.UU., junto a dos ceramistas y cuatro gatos. 
La podéis encontrar en:  http://kilakilakila.blogspot.com

poema de amor

trágame con agua
y me disolveré
viajaré a través de
tu cuerpo
tus órganos
con mis pestañas
me mearás en la ducha
y me volveré humana
me limpiarás
mientras te cuento
con los ojos muy abiertos
todo lo que he visto

*Traducción del inglés: Emily Roberts
(poema seleccionado de la antología Vomit)

miles de hormiguitas negras

lamento acordarme
de cuando estaban viniendo por mí
y todo lo que podía escuchar
era el bramido
del mundo
contra mi cráneo
y sentir ese mundo que me rodeaba
como miles de hormiguitas negras
luchando infinitamente
por unas migas de pan
y que sonaba como las pisadas
de miles de hormiguitas negras
moviéndose y pisándose entre ellas
el golpeteo de las piernas
amplificado 600 veces
con un megáfono
en cada una de mis orejas
y el mundo que no va a parar
por mí, no
el mundo no para por nadie
sólo jesús, cuando viene
por mi mejor amiga de la secundaria
y yo no soy jesús
no, yo no estoy salvando a nadie
al pisar fuerte y patear la vereda
alimentando a las ensordecedoras hormigas.

Versión de Tom Maver

thousands of tiny black ants

i am sorry i remember
when they were coming for me
and all i could hear
was the bellowing
of the world
against my skull
and the world outside of me
felt like thousands of tiny black ants
fighting endlessly
over the crumbs of a muffin
and sounded like the footsteps
of thousands of tiny black ants
moving over and under one another
the crushing of legs
amplified 600 times
through a megaphone
in each of my ears
and the world won’t quit
for me, no
the world quits for no one
only jesus, when he comes
for my high school best friend
and i am not jesus
no, i am saving no one
by stomping and kicking on sidewalks
and feeding the deafening black ants.

silk pajama shirt
i took a bill from my mailbox downstairs 
to see what my address looked like 
i typed the hangul into google 
it took a very long time 
i think i differentiated the former tenant's name 
from the actual address 
after much trial and error 

i did this because i asked my co-worker for our address once 
and i do not intend on asking her again 

i would rather solve my own mysteries 
than bother others to solve them for me


today my brother said, "you don't have a job, it's 4pm, why does your hair still look like that" 
i said, "yea i just washed it, it's really poofy" 
he said, "what time did you wake up" 
i said, "10:30" 
he said, "what in the hell did you do all day" 
i said, "i made noah eggs and kielbasa, then i cut my hair, then i washed my hair, then i listened to dubstep really loudly using the speakers in your bedroom" 
he said, "stay out of my bedroom" 
my other brother said, "dubstep is for people who are addicted to ecstasy" 


that night i fell asleep petting a black cat 
when i woke up she wasn't there anymore 
when i woke up nothing was there anymore 
when i woke up i was facedown on a curtain 
when i woke up i didn't know where i was 

when i woke up in that desert dream 
and all of my water had been taken from me 
and all of my friends had been taken from me 
and all of my drugs had been taken from me 
and all of my love had been taken from me 

nothing changed because nothing mattered anyway

there is something dark about your sexuality
my nails were long for a little while 
but i bit them all off 
my house is lit with one lamp 
my house is empty and i am alone 
i never want to live in the suburbs 
because i trust myself 
i think i really trust myself 
because in all seriousness, 
i want to make you cry 
why am i not your confessional 
my stomach is full of fingernails 

why am i not your confessional

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