[Rodrigo
Toscano]
4 or 5
Estimations
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||
F aces. Because what else did not suffice. NoisesCity Sources. I’m hungry claimed one voice (back there) Here, are newer etchings. Stroll appealed. Chose the lanes. Steel. Gas. Drivers. His wanting to be – “right there” – how? Easy to say Future, a hard point to pinpoint That is, how’d you get from Hillcrest to the Bayfront? Bread. Slowness: not barefoot as there’s too much smashed glass Equals, shoes, purchased, and so forth, what’s perceiving? Now’s a sea gull. Flew. By. And so forth. Now’s a fence. There is no out, once an out becomes a question. Pants aren’t purchased, pants are sown, How do you fit – in. Forms – faces, not chosen, mark honesty? get real – Will mean, How have you got – by. Corn, chilies, barley Subsidized lyrics as in your puffy schools, pray What does take mean, docks unloading, who inspects what? I’m a doormat talking as if I’m a kingpin. There’s my world down there. Bull – crap. What inspects who, Group Bellies, gonads, eyeballs, creatures of the light, speak. I feel mis-placed, a non-self spoke – estimations?
*
Greenish oily wavelets, bouncing yellow lights – gleam Look different from far away, spread out, than they now At this shore, words groping, shall all wenden to nought. Nevertheless, pier 39, serves as a stage For a one who’s bundled in a cotton jacket Placid, cold, among the warmness of such absence Wedged between hope and dread, has revealed a...[gropes for] Wood, remains countered by wood, in all its forms – is? Wedged between earth and sky, has become a non-being Always already something else: soil, pine, pier, stage. So that ships, floating upon forced economies Which like to view themselves as random, casual – gleam Also, from whence came this single existential Act, is a residual form from a social past Is bobbing on till Other Metaphoric Needs Intersect it, other determinate moments Clash, which means, until another person comes by – For, estimations of contradictions – “a chat” I’d of asked one, but they had something else to do.
*
Palm interrupts moon, though moon has little to tell. Dredged-up rock doubted jagged. Crabs would be knowledge. Fear, the untenderness of train carts for miles, screech. And everything is not trauma, you young gothics. Slow, the stomach of the city digests old signs Or the unharmonious blacksmith of night, hums. Furthermore, Genuine Butter (carton) empty Strikes a nerve. Which one, could be a six month project Or an immediate result, unfettered, flies – Somewhere else to be, somewhere else to be, twitching Why, is an impertinence to the body’s climb. Someone else to be [Club Artaud, I laugh at this] The climb – into the ground. Holds on to what? A now Estimates a new arm, a Happening History. Without Love or Hate unable to modulate That feverish moment – who’s heard spoken about? Illych said one lives more then than in all one’s life. So the analogy went, as others permute. That all imparities and lacks won’t fuse, have to.
*
Mornings. Because how else do nights define – passage. Routine. Shapes compelling. Skip the tired urban themes. Paint chipped off the curbs, tires ran over them, ground dust – Is packed into corners, crevices, – I...why try? And at the umpteenth hour, estimate, such values. He, could puke, but he don’t like that, as if like meant Means squat. Welcome, to the festival of privilege Pay to Play; Play, for pay. Geez partner, same routine Serio, bromeador, severo, sarcastico. Sometimes morning sickness for who’s pregnant – with death. This also a testament to cable tv. And it all shouldn’t matter because all things stop. And it all shouldn’t matter because it goes on. And it all shouldn’t matter because you can’t be. And it all shouldn’t matter because you have been. And it all shouldn’t matter because you might be. And it all shouldn’t matter because you won’t know. And it all shouldn’t matter because it’s so much. And it all shouldn’t matter because – everything.
*
After the reflective sheen of the harbor’s tints An attempt to, about, comes from, it a cover Merely? After the rhapsodic interlude – shed. Before the closing gap between you and others High noon began by strapping on its boots to romp And lord do the people suffer in war-time (he Wouldn’t know it, yet doesn’t care to know it, soon.) De l’horizon d’un seul a l’horizon de tous Wrote Eluard in ’48 (who’s groping here – grafts) Would require kindness, not as a mass campaign, yet Not as a not toward one either. Because it has Might matter: phrases, buckets, slogans, verses, gruel. And as the century’s deep scarring seem to linger (There, where he was, less railing to hold on to – climb Down, a symptom of the times, it said, signing class) A life’s capacity for struggle – Estimate Amid analogies of silence, rupture, touch. Tall orders in the late day, tired stamina spoke It’s becoming less obvious Which words trace which deeds
[ 4 o 5 valoracions]Cares.
Perquè amb una altra cosa no n’hi hagué prou. Sorolls
*
Petites ones verdoses i olioses, que fan rebotar llums
grogues: lluïssor *
Ser una altra persona [Club Artaud, me’n ric, d’això] La pujada - terra endins. S’agafa a què? Un ara Avalua un braç nou, una Història Que S’esdevé. Sense Amor o Odi incapaços de modular Aquell moment febril – de qui era que parlaven? Illych va dir que hom viu més aleshores que en tota la seua vida. I doncs l’analogia va continuar, mentre altres canvien. Que totes les imparitats i les mancances no es fusionaran, han de fer-ho. * Matins. Perquè com definir les nits
altrament – passatge. *
Un intent de, si més no, arriba, la coberta Només? Després del rapsòdic interludi: cau Abans que la distància entre tu i els altres s’escurce El migdia començà a amarrar-se les botes per eixir a calvalcar I, senyor, com pateix la gent en temps de guerra (ell No ho sabrà i, no obstant, no li importa saber-ho, per ara.) De l’horizon d’un seul à l’horizon de tous Va escriure Eluard l’any 48 (qui grapeja ací: martingales) Faria falta amabilitat, no com a campanya de masses, però Ni tampoc com a mancada d’objectiu. Perquè té Fusta de puixança: frases, poals, eslògans, versos, farinetes. I mentre les profundes cicatrius del segle fa l’efecte que ronsegen (Allí, on era ell, menys baranes on aferrar-se: baixar Un símptoma dels temps, es va dir, la classe contractant) La capacitat d’una vida per a lluitar: avaluar Entre analogies de silenci, ruptura, tacte. Alts encàrrecs al final del dia, un radi exhaurit Com més va menys evident és quines paraules rastregen quins fets.
[Traducció de Francesc Sellés]
Rodrigo Toscano va nàixer a San Diego, Califòrnia, el 1964. Hi va viure fins als 25 anys (tret d’un any passat als deserts del sud-oest fent de camioner). El 1995 es va traslladar a San Francisco i hi va viure quatre anys, com a treballador social, a banda de ser un destacat activista laboral. Durant aquest temps va fundar, juntament amb Jocelyn Saindenberg i Hung Q. Tu, Krupskaya Press. Després es va traslladar a Brooklyn (Greenpoint) amb la poeta i assagista Laura Elrick, on viu actualment. Treballa al Labor Institute de Manhattan, i continua avalotant, estimulant, enfurismant i a voltes desconcertant els seus amics (i fins i tot a ell mateix) i els diversors intrusos que es deixen caure en lectures de poesia, raó per la qual no para de seqüenciar paraules i declamar aquestes seqüències en públic. És l’autor de Platform (Atelos, 2003), The Diparities (Green Integer, 2002) i Partisans (O Books, 1999). Recentment, la seua obra ha aparegut en Perspektive 43+44, “Avantgarde Under Net Conditions” (Alemanya), Kenning Audi Editions, Rattapallax núm. 9, “Recent Brazilian and American Poetry”.
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