for M, with all of my anguish


this is my anguish:

4 am. waking to drink coffee
take pills
         two by two.
inhaling / exhaling
                                     Against the window
                                     Toward the east.
To pee       
To not even                  smoke
fighting the exhaustion.
testing the water. too cold.
five minutes the water’s still too cold.
still.
                            looking at the clock.
         five more minutes. in front of the sink.
I scrub my arms. one more minute. cracked.
         against the ceramic.

         I’m cracked
subject to the search for the sublime

in search of emotion in the everyday

damp         I hold on to
the rhythm of my days
the regime of physical health                           more-or-less militant
                                                        far less metaphysical

                                     --you get it--
others don’t interest me in
         the slightest

I keep rubbing hinges            scrubbing porcelain
                   mopping the floor
I keep boiling vegetables                crushing garlic
I keep folding shirts
I keep        
                                     the trash far from the groceries
                            the WC far from the groceries
                   my heart far from the groceries

clean cholesterol
lean meat

 
I keep
                   my intimacy
                   bland

I keep
                            il mio dolore
                            il mio cuore

I keep
         a question disturbing my routine
                            what keeps
                   my imbecilic heart
                                                                   unhungry?

this is my anguish:

LONELINESS IS A SCANDAL

 


this is my hunger:

I want everything
         Everything’s circular when decaying
nel passare dei giorni
                   everything is fickle
                            everything is cramped
everything is terror
everything is else
                   everything is sacred
everything is muscular
everything absolutely everything is filled with fog
nel passare delle notti
                   everything is omitted
                   everything exerts its weight
                            everything is in its place
         everything counts as evident
                   nel corso degli anni

                   EVERYTHING
         seems superficial  
EVERYTHING IS DESCRIPTION
everything is conviction quando scopiamo
all visual contact made difficult quando scopiamo
quando scopiamo
                   when you get me off  
                   everything seems to overflow
everything is senseless
                   EVERYTHING
         lacks measure
EVERYTHING is lucidity everything
                                      has sores
everything is bony
         everything runs out
everything overwhelms
                   everything absolutely everything weighs
         con il passare delle ore

everything is circular
                   when decaying 
 everything is colorless
         everything is silence
everything is dull
everything is slack

everything disgusts me

everything has a limit:
I barely crawl toward it                  and I want
                                               everything to end

I censor all satisfaction

                                                                 I leave every expression
                                                                           every extension
                                                                           every word
                                                                           to the side

 I abandon everything


this is my illness:
countering and distorting
blindspots

LIVING WITH FEAR                                   sleeping an entire youth
                                               in hospitals
doesn’t mean anything

nothing like
training in the small pleasure of teaching philosophy and repeating

that myth passes into science

and science into the domain of nature                     and aberrant
                                                                                    reason
foreign                                   I would say

 
nothing like
raising birds
to not anticipate the cold               nor the metal
to name them
to bleed when they bleed
to love them                          like one loves a child

nothing like
twisting necks

like going to therapy

LIVING BESIDE THE SEA
means adopting some things that one could recount

let’s say:
redemption
rehabilitation
production          reproduction
calm
decaffeinated coffee

silence
silence
pace silenzio

a thousand daily calories
seven hours of sleep
four clear memories                       of the civil war
three sexual partners                     at a minimum
                            that is the weight of my fortune
                   that will have to be my life

TO LIVE BESIDE THE SEA
functional and invertebrate


this is my weapon:

I don’t like images                 nor the sea
nor sex                                  —and really not sex—
I don’t know how to swim
I don’t have an imagination I don’t know how to take care of plants

I can’t make little ones grow tall
In the heart of a landscape

I don’t have a vocation

heightened desires can’t grow
in the middle of a man

I don’t have desire

I don’t believe in a sense of desperation
I don’t believe in a sense of time
I don’t believe in a sense of beauty

WHAT DO I HAVE TO HOPE FOR?

my figures are apathetic
my words are simple

I’m occupied today with distancing myself from excess


this is my privacy:

prima scena della mia fuerza
moves me profoundly

                            the strength of the ligaments
the strength of the ligaments in human development of what we understand as

coming and going

it moves me profoundly the contra natura
                                              the difficulty of visual contact as
                                     sign of civilization afloat 

                                     the strength of the cornea before the light
                            moves me

white light of the apartments put up
                  in the middle of the real estate boom
accompanying symptom to the gastronomic boom
                   and the anatomy of the kitchens built first in the houses
circa 1980 and the pre-fab kitchens circa
         their debut year

it moves me profoundly the action of the other                 let’s say
         climbing down from the apple trees                          let’s say, apple trees
being australopithecines
         to fuck                                    let’s say fuck
—let’s not say “fornicate” which is totally dissonant—

 to fuck                 on the kitchen titles
                  to fuck in the household grease

the fortitude moves me                   this kitchen’s mold moves me

I think                 of its forms
encroaching on this house’s cement

                            this fortified house

I think of the strength of this body’s
                            knees

a sick body                            and not strength but
                                     damp
                   in this house
there’s only
a tired body
inchoate
invaded by the fastness del tuo sesso 

in questa cocina precariat

I think or rather            try to make sense of
the material whole:

palpable
the shame of these years
of my discarded life

I try to make sense of
                   il mio cuore
                   il mio dolore

I try to comprehend
the strength of my anguish

NOTHING SAVES ME LIKE A LANGUAGE I DON’T UNDERSTAND

it’s like that
prima scena
prima scena della mia caduta

between everything that can exist
                                     the history of all of humanity itself
the things that move men
                   to do things 

whatever’s most moving, I accept it

an abandoned house
a worn-out body  


Valeria Román Marroquín (Arequipa, Peru) has published the poemarios Feedback (Poesía Sub25, 2016), Matrioska (Fondo Editorial APJ, 2018), Triza La Luz (Meir-Ramírez, 2020) and ana c. buena (La Balanza, 2021) as well as the shorter works kriegzsustand (self-published, 2017) and angst (Fondo Editorial PUCP, 2018). She is the 2017 winner of the Premio Nacional de Poesía José Watanabe Varas and of the Premio Luces 2018 for best volume of poetry.

Tr. Judah Rubin