3 Poems by Oriette D’Angelo Translated from the Spanish by Lupita Eyde-Tucker

Landscape with Two Tombs and an Assyrian Dog

(brief homage to Lorca)

Far too long I loved a man

with brown eyes                       hooked tongue

ribcage of serrated knives

 

Loved him since my body’s last orbit

since my tongue exploded

since the shout

 

So then how do I get up

from this highway of bones?

How do I point my nose towards the lacerated sky?

How do I choose the final resting place for my hands?

 

How do I forget help me to forget

How does one roam the sky outside a window?

 

I lie down and hear howls

hear the fingernails inside my womb

they claw me girl

they claw me whole

since the coldest friction

since the arrow landed

 

I lived one hundred years inside a knife

and I still don’t awaken from death

a husband smashes into the glass

 

You asked me once

about my country

about the sorry condition

of our winters

 

One day you said the sky didn’t make sense

and the next day you stopped switching on the light

 

How can you, then, question my shadow?

*

Scalpel

Holding the word scalpels on trembling lips
Stand straight, look me in the eye and say goodbye.

‘Jigsaw”

MARILLION

I toast the womb that bled for a year
and for the wound of that day that still bares its bones
for the stomach that cramps each time words burn

the scars on my legs as they march off-step

the pain of returning to a darkened house
and the glass of water that no one retrieved from my bedroom

for all that grieves my kitchen
because I’m almost never hungry

for my overdue expiration date
the umbilical cord that I ripped off with my teeth
for this uterus gnawed            by over-examination
too much female condition
too much male condition
too much condition of knives

I raise a glass because you can die from hurricanes
die of country

                        /healthy body

                                    /happy body

All the scars can be sacrificed for naught
all the landscapes by neither
no earthquake for your earthquake
all my anxieties for nothing
yet faced with the fear of the scalpel, I burst
and bleed


 *

Dear Leticia

For Leticia Cortes

 

We have in common being women
and the need to suffer
to be understood

You taught me to believe in blue angels
the home pages of blogs
and the music of Lifehouse

You taught me that thirteen
can also be delirious
to suffer from              to find
that birds have heavy gears
for wings

We have in common the absence
and the losses
in how consistent we are to leave
without caring

We have in common
the word trapeze
and the hurried jump
of a suicide cat

Dear Leticia:
I look so much like you
that sometimes I say “slash”
I invoke your name
I throw my body into space
and I find myself

Dear Leticia:
just like it happens to you
every pain has its site
but my places are never the same

I look so much
like you
that disease makes me panic
that I wake from a hypochondriac dream
I rock in the silence of a shared bedroom
and break into sobs

break into tremors
break into bone
break into your name
You were the first to write me
to ask if I felt
that blood is a cluster of birds

You were the first to bang on the door
pixellating space
to show me your huge eyes
and invite me to believe in your name

Dear Leticia:
you look so much
like me
that sometimes I say “Ana”
I say “disorder”
I say “dread”
and I locate myself.


ORIETTE D’ANGELO (Author) (Caracas, 1990) is a PhD candidate in Spanish Literature at the University of Iowa and the editor of both the literary magazine Digo.palabra.txt and the research and broadcasting project #PoetasVenezolanas. She has an MFA in Creative Writing in Spanish from the University of Iowa, and an MA in digital communication and media arts from DePaul University. She is the author of two collections of poetry and two chapbooks, and she edited an anthology of young Venezuelan poets called Amanecimos Sobre la Palabra (Team Poetero Ediciones, 2017). Her poems have appeared in anthologies in Venezuela, Argentina, Mexico, and Ecuador. Her website is http://www.oriettedangelo.com.

 

LUPITA EYDE-TUCKER (Translator) (New Jersey, 1971) is an Ecuadorian-American poet who writes and translates poetry in English and Spanish. Her poems have appeared in Nashville Review, Columbia Journal, Raleigh Review, Women's Voices for Change, [PANK], American Life in Poetry, The Cortland Review, MER, and Ninth Letter. Since 2018 she has been translating Venezuelan poet Oriette D’Angelo. Mother to five children, Lupita is currently pursuing an MFA in Poetry at the University of Florida, where she teaches creative writing. Lupita has received fellowships and institutional support from Kentucky Women Writers Conference, Bread Loaf Writers Conferences, the NY State Summer Writers Institute, and Vermont Studio Center.  Read more of her work here: www.NotEnoughPoetry.com

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