Thursday, January 20, 2011

votos en blanco



por supuesto, hay gente que es feliz
en el invierno,
que tu vista mejora aunque se vaya la luz,
aunque uno haya dejado de citarse,
de ensayar ante el espejo, frente a los demás

gente que en los meses de enero y de febrero
no pierde su norte,su capacidad de supeditarse,
de combatir las intromisiones del mundo
y las presuntas
condiciones mensurables, pronosticables
de la temporada

gente que, sin padecer de alergias,
en el invierno no echa de menos el polen de las flores,
ni el espectáculo cívico, público
o las exhibiciones, insinuaciones
en vivo y en directo de los cuerpos escultóricos,
femeninos

gente que en los meses de enero y de febrero
ni fu ni fa,
no sabe de ponerse triste, de ganar o perder de peso,
ni de mirar con desconfianza y no con buenos ojos
lo que algunos de nosotros trata de ignorar,
de no continuar maldiciendo

gente joven y no tan vieja que habla nuestro idioma,
que de cuando en cuando también
comparte con nosotros no sólo un café,
no sólo una copa de vino
sino nuestra querencia, nuestra preocupación

gente que, desde luego, no es culpable,
pero que tampoco se hace responsable

hay gente de susodicha índole entre nosotros
según las encuestas, el departamento de estadísticas,
el número adecuado para la nación
y el tiempo en el que vivimos
según los eugenistas, los sondeadores
de opinión pública


c. a. campos, 2011

Thursday, January 13, 2011

clueless



the other day i made another poor decision.
& today i find myself once more
in the shoe store over on prince street
& some other avenue or street. 
it seems that now
i don’t like the shoes that, after all,
i handpicked after careful consideration
during my lunch break: 
either on monday or tuesday.
it seems that now i would like 
to exchange them for a different pair:
except,
except that now that i’m less doubtful
about what i want
they don’t have my size
& i don’t want to settle this time or the next 
for choice # 2 or choice # 3, 
despite everything nowadays 
requiring so much energy, 
so much enthusiasm,
so many unpaid or unacknowledged after-hours. 
“i’m sorry but we don’t have them 
in stock,” they tell me 
with a rehearsed smile, 
after going to the back again just to make sure.
thus  i get a refund & ask the manager
to give me a buzz
if in a week or 2 my shoe size comes in
with their new shipment. 
for after 14 days i can’t promise anyone
let alone my feet
that i still will have the dough
to buy them, to painfully break them in:
money, too, being, 
like so many other things in my life,
scarce resource,
time-sensitive material.
the other day i threw my old pair away.
      

c. a. campos, 2011   

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

domestic violence



i made a call, today.
i dialed fortune’s number
& ordered her ass to sit down & listen up.

i told her that i was up to here with her rationale
& that i have had it with her ways,
that it was time for somebody to put her in her place.

“this year is going to be my year
& you better mark my words,” i cautioned her.
“it’s time for you to go & shortchange someone else.”

the not so poor thing was at a loss for words.
when she picked up, she thought
it was just another annoying courtesy call.

she didn’t know that like the snow,
that like the next day effects of binge drinking,
she had overstayed her welcome.

“i’m in the middle of obtaining a restraining order,”
i warned her before hanging up on her.
“stay the fuck out of my life!”



c. a. campos, 2011