Sara Uribe
POEM IN WHICH THE SPEAKER CONVERSES WITH AN EDITOR TO WHOM NO ONE HAS EXPLAINED IF PURITY EXISTS, OR IF IT IS EVEN, SHALL WE SAY, NECESSARY. OR POSSIBLE. OR IF IT TASTES ANY GOOD.
He said he wanted a neutral poem. He said he would add a laugh track.
He said he'd keep a stylist, make-up artist, tranquilizers, and Bach flower essences on standby.
Snacks and amenities would be available in the dressing room, just in case.
First, he asked me whether my poem wished to appear dressed as a poem; as
a Mexican poem; as a contemporary Mexican poem; as a contemporary Mexican poem
written by a woman; or as a contemporary Mexican poem written by a bisexual woman.
Next, he stated in no uncertain terms that we'd better undress it.
That it would be more attractive to the public if they could create a look
to suit their taste. Like those little paper dolls
we used to manufacture garments for that were attached to the bodies with tiny tabs.
As naked as possible. He said. No tattoos. No marks.
Tell your poem to close its eyes and ignore who publishes it, or where.
Perhaps you ought to sterilize it with anti-bacterial wipes, he suggested.
Or provide a warning label: do not drink this poem with a straw.
It would be best if we were to erase the poem completely.
To publish not the poem, but its erasure.
To say: here there was once a poem.
Neutral. Fully neutered.
From: Antígone González
Publisher: Les Figues Press, , 2016
GEDICHT WAARIN DE SPREKER MET EEN UITGEVER PRAAT AAN WIE NIEMAND HEEFT UITGELEGD OF HET ZUIVERE BESTAAT, OF HET, ZOGEZEGD, NOODZAKELIJK IS, OF MOGELIJK. OF HET LEKKER SMAAKT
Hij zei dat hij een neutraal gedicht wilde. De lachband zou hij toevoegen.
Hij zou een stylist, een grimeur, benzo’s, Bach-bloesem paraat hebben.
Hapjes en andere voorzieningen in de kleedkamer klaarzetten, voor het geval dat.
Eerst vroeg hij of mijn gedicht gekleed wilde gaan als gedicht; als
Mexicaans gedicht; als modern Mexicaans gedicht; als modern
Mexicaans gedicht geschreven door een vrouw; als modern
Mexicaans gedicht geschreven door een biseksuele vrouw.
Daarna zei hij stellig dat het beter zou zijn om het uit te kleden.
Voor het publiek was het aantrekkelijker als ze het konden aantrekken wat
ze maar wilden. Zoals die papieren popjes waar we kleertjes voor knutselden
bedoeld om met piepkleine lipjes aan het lijfje te hangen.
Zo naakt mogelijk. Zei hij. Zonder tatoeages. Zonder vlekken.
Zeg je gedicht zijn ogen te sluiten en niet te kijken wie het waar publiceert.
Misschien kun je het steriliseren met antibacteriële doekjes, suggereerde hij.
En op de verpakking specificeren: dit gedicht moet u niet met een rietje drinken.
Nog beter zou zijn het gedicht helemaal te wissen.
Niet het gedicht publiceren maar de sporen ervan.
Zeggen: hier stond een gedicht.
Neutraal. Neutraalst.
Publisher: 2022, Voor het eerst gepubliceerd op PoetryInternational.com,
POEMA EN QUE LA ENUNCIANTE CHARLA CON UN EDITOR AL QUE NADIE LE HA EXPLICADO SI LO PURO EXISTE, O SI ES, PONGAMOS, NECESARIO. O POSIBLE. O SI SABE BIEN
Dijo que quería un poema neutro. Las risas grabadas las pondría él.
Que tendría listos estilista, maquillista, tafiles, flores de Bach.
Viandas y amenidades dispuestas en el camerino, por si fuese necesario.
Primero me preguntó si mi poema quería salir vestido de poema; de
poema mexicano; de poema mexicano contemporáneo; de poema
mexicano contemporáneo escrito por una mujer; de poema
mexicano contemporáneo escrito por una mujer bisexual.
Después aseguró enfático que era preferible que lo desvistiéramos.
Que al público le sería más atractivo si podía arroparlo a
contentillo. Como aquellas muñequitas de papel a las que les
fabricábamos ropa hecha para fijarse al cuerpo con minúsculas pestañas.
Lo más desnudo posible. Dijo. Sin tatuajes. Sin marcas.
Dile a tu poema que cierre los ojos y no mire quién o dónde se publica.
Tal vez deberías esterilizarlo con toallitas antibacteriales, sugirió.
Que en su empaque se especifique: este poema no deberá beberse con popote.
Mejor será borrar el poema por completo.
Publicar no el poema sino su borradura.
Decir: aquí hubo un poema.
Neutro. Neutrísimo.
From: Antígona González
Publisher: Sur+ Ediciones,
POEM IN WHICH THE SPEAKER CONVERSES WITH AN EDITOR TO WHOM NO ONE HAS EXPLAINED IF PURITY EXISTS, OR IF IT IS EVEN, SHALL WE SAY, NECESSARY. OR POSSIBLE. OR IF IT TASTES ANY GOOD.
He said he wanted a neutral poem. He said he would add a laugh track.
He said he'd keep a stylist, make-up artist, tranquilizers, and Bach flower essences on standby.
Snacks and amenities would be available in the dressing room, just in case.
First, he asked me whether my poem wished to appear dressed as a poem; as
a Mexican poem; as a contemporary Mexican poem; as a contemporary Mexican poem
written by a woman; or as a contemporary Mexican poem written by a bisexual woman.
Next, he stated in no uncertain terms that we'd better undress it.
That it would be more attractive to the public if they could create a look
to suit their taste. Like those little paper dolls
we used to manufacture garments for that were attached to the bodies with tiny tabs.
As naked as possible. He said. No tattoos. No marks.
Tell your poem to close its eyes and ignore who publishes it, or where.
Perhaps you ought to sterilize it with anti-bacterial wipes, he suggested.
Or provide a warning label: do not drink this poem with a straw.
It would be best if we were to erase the poem completely.
To publish not the poem, but its erasure.
To say: here there was once a poem.
Neutral. Fully neutered.
From: Antígone González
Publisher: 2016, Les Figues Press,
POEM IN WHICH THE SPEAKER CONVERSES WITH AN EDITOR TO WHOM NO ONE HAS EXPLAINED IF PURITY EXISTS, OR IF IT IS EVEN, SHALL WE SAY, NECESSARY. OR POSSIBLE. OR IF IT TASTES ANY GOOD.
He said he wanted a neutral poem. He said he would add a laugh track.
He said he'd keep a stylist, make-up artist, tranquilizers, and Bach flower essences on standby.
Snacks and amenities would be available in the dressing room, just in case.
First, he asked me whether my poem wished to appear dressed as a poem; as
a Mexican poem; as a contemporary Mexican poem; as a contemporary Mexican poem
written by a woman; or as a contemporary Mexican poem written by a bisexual woman.
Next, he stated in no uncertain terms that we'd better undress it.
That it would be more attractive to the public if they could create a look
to suit their taste. Like those little paper dolls
we used to manufacture garments for that were attached to the bodies with tiny tabs.
As naked as possible. He said. No tattoos. No marks.
Tell your poem to close its eyes and ignore who publishes it, or where.
Perhaps you ought to sterilize it with anti-bacterial wipes, he suggested.
Or provide a warning label: do not drink this poem with a straw.
It would be best if we were to erase the poem completely.
To publish not the poem, but its erasure.
To say: here there was once a poem.
Neutral. Fully neutered.
From: Antígone González
Publisher: 2016, Les Figues Press,