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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535702" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tio, Losing His Sums, Ontologizes 'What Has Become of Me</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">[translated from the Spanish of Raul Voz]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The world of dew is <br>a world of dew...<br>and yet...<br>and yet...' - Issa</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Y que? Yet what? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am a cabin</div><div style="margin:10px 0">some woods</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tio's Tree </div><div style="margin:10px 0">a crotch mountain<br>in Mexico</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am drawn water from<br>artesian deep well </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am a bath with night stars</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am swelling in night-mirage</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am heat vectors from <br>day-heated earth making </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am giddier star dance</div><div style="margin:10px 0">bathing<br>on the porch at night<br>(so the shy mountain <br>cannot see) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am rain water<br>gathered rhythmically<br>from the tin roof tonal<br>toks<br>glocks in pots all kinds) ... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am</div><div style="margin:10px 0">porch sit<br>write again<br>pick up<br>paints again<br>seek the missing</div><div style="margin:10px 0">EAR</div><div style="margin:10px 0">hike/walk/wobble<br>a patch of canvas<br>dirt squabble<br>(I am) the 3-legged<br>dog his name<br>is Trip<br>(the missing leg) <br>whose meanness<br>recognizes evil <br>stumbles when he <br>sees me</div><div style="margin:10px 0">me (I am) neck hairs <br>fiercely rising <br>I am gums drawn<br>exposed teeth<br>the terrible tongue<br>sound of fear <br>the hunger pit <br>the stomach wants<br>wants<br>the burn there<br>the dejected bone<br>tossed to the heap<br>the creeping past<br>the field's edge<br>the burning stalks<br>the tin can bent<br>beneath a child's<br>bare feet playing<br>the brown eyes do<br>not see</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the worn chain red<br>brittle in dust lost <br>without locking<br>embrace of gates<br>doors the sweet<br>child whose name <br>is known only <br>from her smile<br>the bruises <br>her arms tell<br>something of <br>what is sheltered</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the squat house<br>always smokes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the valley</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the dry arroyo<br>trace </div><div style="margin:10px 0">snake crawl and<br> vermin chase</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the food chain<br> NOT rusted<br>brittle the war<br>is on unseen <br>real beyond the <br>porch the tin<br>above groaning <br>witness for me<br>asleep</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the hammock<br>leaves grids<br>on naked skin</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am the dead<br>weight the<br>sleight-of-hand<br>of eyes shut<br>the unseen battle<br>only a dream I am</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the wasted </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the water gathered<br>from dew the few<br>drops winking<br>in the web </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and yet the<br>black spider and<br>yet the dawn <br>and yet still...still<br>it (I am) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">yet waiting</div><div style="margin:10px 0">as such<br>state old men are or<br>soon to be, <br>arrive<br>their ire in retire<br>crow songs<br>strong for not<br>too much longer <br>pour out red wine<br>hiss at the intrusive<br>mouse herald of <br>The End in <br>alto sung (I am) <br>an old man tin-can <br>spit-cup in hand <br> <br>can without<br>doing harm chew<br>a niggardly weed <br>skunk tobacco<br>growing wild(I<br>am) in ditch <br>and dale <br>cogitation to <br>more write</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am cooked simple fare<br>the raised corn<br>the little hay the locals<br>play that itch of skin for<br>skin embrace Tio's<br>primal call to sin over<br>into (I am) the blurring sanity<br>of digitally hog-tied<br>corralled world too<br>easily pixilating O dust<br>to dust after </div><div style="margin:10px 0">all is said/done I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">am and so run on</div><div style="margin:10px 0">over-strung/wrought-out<br>(as is this poem) I will <br>yes yes my love<br>listen will yes<br>recover such enough<br>air around to go on<br>sing my song<br>a tio-tangle in<br>treelimbs the kind<br>Van Gogh still somewhere<br>paints</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I am knees sore</div><div style="margin:10px 0">now and always<br>a call<br>to prayer<br>to woo in <br>old boots<br>worn leather<br>weak knees</div><div style="margin:10px 0">make me to<br>existence/being<br>adore</div><div style="margin:10px 0">to which I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">have only </div><div style="margin:10px 0">just</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in a </div><div style="margin:10px 0">dream</div><div style="margin:10px 0">renewed my wedding vows</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Warren+Falcon">Warren Falcon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=535702" data-title="Tio, Losing His Sums, Ontologizes 'What Has Become of Me de Warren Falcon" data-description="[translated from the Spanish of Raul Voz]

'The world of dew is 
a world of dew...
and yet...
and yet...' - Issa


Y que? Yet what? 

I am a cabin

some woods

Tio's Tree 

a crotch mountain
in Mexico

I am drawn water from
artesian deep well 

I ..."></div>
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