She sets out the treasures and the bric-a-brac of her life, piece by piece, on top of a thick cardboard box in which lurks the lukewarm dampness of a dense December fog…
This is an excerpt from the fourth major section of the book Africana (Gyldendal, 2019). Translations of other chapters can be found in Asymptote, Wilderness House Literary Review, and Delos (University of Florida Press).
“We were arguing,” she said. Her eyes felt wide. Her palms were drenched in sweat.
“What?” Her boyfriend grabbed her elbow. He felt like fire. She pulled away. And he looked pale to her. Pale as bones. She smelled smoke. “When?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.” The incense singed her nose. Everything was aflame. “Wedding invitations?”
I’ve lived three times, and I don’t prefer any of my lives over the other. Life has always been in progress in the circuit around which I’ve been traveling. The circuit doesn’t care if I’ve been on the right road. It doesn’t matter if I’m on the path of happiness or to misery. Being strong […]
On again Again. Take me out of my depth. These legs below me flailing, flailing. Again take me to where I dive and make for pebbles that I take for rock. Amid me algae crushing through. It’s warm today. I take a breath of sky you listen your face turned to the light. Shadow […]
The man shook her hand. The woman sat down opposite, with her handbag between her feet, feet which were half-exposed in low-heeled slingbacks. The man looked over the top of his glasses at her. “Are you feeling okay?” “Yes.” “Would you like any water?” “No.” “Tea, coffee…?” “No.” “Esther Salarrue Arribalzaga.” “Yes.” “Okay […]
In a boat that drifts through the South Atlantic, close to what we as Argentines call the Malvinas, and that on English maps they figure as the Falklands, I face the important though sad task of searching for and rescuing the dreams of Argentine soldiers (sometimes we also rescue English dreams) that were lost in […]
Exemplary You glimpse a slight copy of liquid belly. Talk about the wind, breed waves on each page, breeding breezes on their veneers. You examine that other in the water-logged bookshelf. Give a meticulous detail of tears opting down very tense cheeks. But this one you pose in your hands (leaves fall apart like butterflies […]
Pero yo ya no soy yo … [But I am not myself anymore …] – Federico García Lorca, Romance sonámbulo Sometimes I dream I’m waist-deep in a sea of dwarf water lettuce other times, I’m traveling interminably on the highway and my countenance is reflected in the green reflections of what I did […]
This is a family photo, with a note on the back that says, Autumn of 1986. The two sitting over on the blanket are my mom and dad, and the two chortling girls of kindergarten age chasing each other on the lawn behind them are me and my sister. Once again, they’d taken us […]