UN CONFESION / A CONFESSION
In a corner a girl sits no one notices her she speaks no one listens invisible child she sits she tries to speak still no one listens so there she sits alone in the corner
No tengo espacio en mi corazon Pero tengo espacio para tequila Patron. Tengo muchas cosas en my cabeza Entonces para olvidar, yo bebi cerveza. Muchas bebidas equal mucho dolor Pero siento feliz y mi corazon es calor.
I have no space in my heart But I have space for Patron tequila. I have many things in my head So to forget, I drink beer. Many beverages equal a lot of pain But I feel happy and my heart is warm. —Lupe Mayor De Crazytown
DO NOT WRITE ABOUT LOVE Do not write about love it is clichéd It is a rabid dog that once bit us and which we’d rather forget Do not seek it Do not think you need it in your life The word must never appear It can be alluded to, but only as something we hide beneath our bed Sex is violent Dig in your nails and make someone’s ﬂesh bleed Then leave the carcass in the morning Love does not understand this It is not postmodern It lives in a world of absolutes Of terrible movies where it is a monster, which cannot be destroyed Do not write about love Do not think it Do not look into its horrible eyes Do not deem it worthy of the statues and wars made in its name Then tell someone you love them and let them say they love you too Allow this mangled beast ﬁnally to pummel you into dust —Benjamin Fractenberg
The Ghost As It Appears to Gertrude In Act III Scene 4
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REPRODUCTION Pregnancy may be the ultimate STD but I like babies
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52 hertz The sound, scientists say Of a tuba’s low note Of a whale wailing In the vastness of the Paciﬁc Here I am. Where are you? Here I am. Where are you? And no answer A baleen whale Of the family of blues or ﬁns or humpbacks But not exactly, scientists say A hybrid perhaps, unlike any other Alone of its kind Malformed or mis-wired or deaf Calling out for more than 15 years At 52 hertz—and no answer Alone Moving restlessly In the vastness of the Paciﬁc Here I am. Where are you? —James Houtrides
Claudius ///// /////// ////*
Gertrude *0000 0000000 00000
Polonius etc et c etc etc etc et
THE LAND A kingless kingdom lays bare; What richness would have grown. Pour your wisdom over me And let my valley groan Once more with the blossoming green; Once more with deepening life. Let this womb bear what had once been. Ease this womb her strife. Tread softly over the poor hills For hardly the wind has been touching. The creaking sounds and whimpering sighs You hear, are only the earth’s heart burning.
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Rosencrantz R&G R& G R&G R&G R&G R&
Yet fear not this vast graying terrain Be sure you move on solid ground. It only seeks a loving reign. It only needs a crown.
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4/08 CHRONOGRAM POETRY 61
Published on Nov 11, 2008
Published on Nov 11, 2008
A regional magazine dedicated to stimulating and supporting the creative and cultural life of New York's beautiful Hudson Valley. - April 20...