cultura, sepultura

me parece que parece…
que el pasado hizo, sigue haciendo su trabajo,
continúa para muchos quedando mal,
jugándose la vida por el humo de un cubano,
por el culo del futuro

me parece que perece, que ya no nos entretiene,
que los dolores se multiplican

y los dólares se antojan del presente,
del volante de su deportivo

me parece que no nos conmueve,

que los fracasos propios, los logros de los otros,
que el otoño y su primavera ante la muerte,
ante la botella de aguardiente

que la abuela nos supo guardar, supo añejar

me parece de repente que en el matadero 

al día también se le sacrifica,
a la venta se ponen sus entrañas y pestañeos,
sus mañas o ganas al menudeo y mayoreo

me parece que entristece la alegría,

que a la sabiduría le gusta lavarse las manos

c. a. campos, 2012

sunday

i’ve been leaf picking for some hours, for some hours searching for tangible evidence,

clearing the backyard for my son, his soccer, for the winter that’s upon us,

compromising my back & my nose, my unseasonal allergies,

filling bag after bag with leaves, branches, with the aftermath of fall’s annual beauty pageant,  

hoping fruitlessly but not needlessly, while getting down & dirty,

to bump into an untapped supply of happiness & not just worms, rocks, & broken glass

i’m almost done & the backyard is slowly starting to look up to par

but my body has also started to ache, to fuss, to wane,  

to wish it were that easy to see results in other areas of life after merely a few hours

of work, of commitment,

if i were a woman i would be screaming by now for a shower & a manicure

c. a. campos, 2012

pasaje, paisaje, pasajero

me gustaría agarrarle el culo a esa tipa

pero tengo miedo de que vaya

a gustarle

c. a. campos, 2012

weltschmerz

la lluvia toca a la puerta, 

me pide que la deje entrar

yo titubeo, no me gusta la gente

que se invita por sí sola

pero por el baho, por el bajo

ella sabe que me encuentro en casa

además: está al tanto de mi relación 

comprometedora con el sol

yo le paso una toalla,

no quiero que vaya a resfriarse

y pongo la emisora, 

el café 

me dispongo a celebrar 

sus chistes por enésima vez 

c. a. campos, 2012

ruminations

self-preservation: i quarantine certain memories,

certain aspirations. it’s monday & it’s harder to buy

(even when on sale) what i’m selling 

so i look the other way & keep my wallet in my pocket.

the world spins & spins: dizziness its natural state,

& it seems like it’s set on winning in musical chairs,

on outlasting our spinning tops.

walking always does me good: moving closer, farther;

going somewhere, getting nowhere;

as well as filling in the background, the foreground

with my headphones, with a book,

with something other than my own projections.

like wild animals, some questions have to be subdued

in order to keep the internal machinery in check,

need to be placed, like inmates, in solitary confinement

so that we can talk behind their backs.

monday is no day at the beach nor is friday a day to sign up: 

one’s too liberal in the latter, too conservative in the former; 

either too carefree or too sensitive to the light.

raindrops are nature’s paratroopers 

but who or what are they trying to save, to divide & conquer? 

& are they singular (each drop) 

or plural 

like our half-truths or anything else under the microscope?

staring out the window, i make a mental note with my sharpie

(women are my favorite visual aid) 

& in between the mist

i breathe in & breathe out, breathe out & breathe in:

isn’t it swell that this pulmonary enterprise, exercise 

isn’t entirely up to us?

c. a. campos, 2012 

cape cod

water recedes & the beach goes bald, becomes a swamp,

reminds you of what we’re doing to the environment,

to ourselves

you stroll a good kilometer with your better half

before reaching its waters,

clear (seaweed notwithstanding) & bone-chilling 

like a truth serum

bodies adjust, lines of demarcation,

so, too, expectations, 

the exclusions or exceptions of the past

not far, you see that some are laughing, swimming,

have been braved despite recent shark attacks,

despite the conclusions, the holes we keep digging 

or falling into

you don’t know what to add or take back,

nor how to put into words what you don’t know

you’d like to share with your partner,

thus the two of you keep on strolling farther in,

the water now at your knees

traction in sand is practically nonexistent

& the sun’s hard to stare down,  

but iodine is what you came here to breathe in 

c. a. campos, 2012

post-coital tristesse

what amount of novelty is required to crack a smile from time to time?

should novelty be available over-the-counter in extended-release tablets?

why do women get away with big ears & men do not?

does hair volume have anything to do with this?

now that my old friend is close to conformity or indifference,

close to not minding not making it to point B or point C,
he asks himself questions to kill time,

he bothers his friends

since he’s unable to help himself after all the years on the road, 

all the weekends at our local public library

is experience favorite snack our enthusiasm?

shouldn’t it first munch for years on midnight delight or mochi ice cream? 

shouldn’t it drink someone else’s kool-aid & get fat or go bald 

before going for our jugular?

his counterproductive, not counterculture, question marks themselves being side effects, 

along with his private bouts with anhedonia, with acceptance, 

withdrawal symptoms 

now that i think about it, now that i too have cut back on alcohol & caffeine

should we perform CPR on the future? would it be more cost-effective to let it die?

is sleeping a good hobby to pick up, a good second career to consider?

how about counting sheep?

what are we supposed to do in a world of misplaced exclamation points?

in a world when answers start to go extinct?

should we take a cue from jazz musicians & improvise?

  

c. a. campos, 2012

olimpiadas

la meta es dejar de la noche a la mañana de esculpirla,

no tener en cada verso que escupir a la cara

a la alegría, en cada trago

es superar nuestra biología y la de los otros,

nuestro entorno, nuestra tristeza 

sin que se nos vaya a la porra el prurito, la creencia 

no son las peripecias del viaje, ni llegar a ítaca, 

sino parar un día de depender de ella,

no tener que necesitar más de su beso, de su saliva

la meta es recuperar la magia de la nada,

mandar a que el vacío se suene la nariz,

recoja sus trapitos

c. a. campos, 2012  

quantum (or implosion)

no matter what space-time theory you annually subscribe to,
some of us are on a collision course
with an object of greater size, of greater importance.

all our conscious efforts to change course are in vain.
like the gods men pray to, plead mercy to,
our subconscious is biologically or selectively deaf, mute.

an unknown creative-destructive force brings together things
so that they can get to know each other, wear off their novelties
& warranties, so that they can discredit themselves.

on some days, we walk towards this object with acceptance or resolution;
on others, as if to counter or make up for our apathy or defiance,
the streaking object rushes itself towards our mobile addresses.

but have no fear, everyone in the science-fiction community
agrees that the impact of our eventuality shall be minimal,
microscopic (if we're being honest).

aside from having to look out for some bubbles bursting,
some balloons popping, & a sidereal object bellowing & burping,
you should be scot-free to worry about your palpitations.


c. a. campos, 2012. 

in jest & recurrent

you start with the future, with the hope-meter doing flips & somersaults,

& you end up with the past as your main course,

as your main discourse

you end up with an outrageous bill as your birthday present,

with the leftovers or your present tense in a doggy bag 

carefully handed over to you by a smiling waitress 

who’s expecting a thank you, 

twenty percent of what you have badly spent before you hit the road, 

before you hurt yourself

*

you start with fair weather & snowy mountains to climb, to fall from, 

with repulsion, attraction, 

& you end up with the keys to an older car model, 

managing a condition, managing an addiction in your spare time, 

& settling for porn, settling for sex

*

you start with make-believe, recreational drugs, 

with others swearing that they make you happy

& you counting on making them less unhappy

with your outside of the box ingenuity, your own brand of bullshit

& you end up contradicting & repeating yourself, or with echolalia,  

with countless uncomfortable private moments

& so many people to consider, to send to hell  

c. a. campos, 2012 

alcohol content

i hate to be a bummer

but the half-empty half-full analogy doesn’t hold water,

doesn’t work for me.

my glass is as dry as land during a drought, most of the time,

or filled to the brim not with pomegranate juice or refreshing h₂o

but with beer.

most of the time my cup is unable to withstand many clinks,

many toasts,

incapable of withstanding too much of a good thing.

& it reminds me, like a nagging parent, between gulps

that it’s easier to come across as profound when you’re blue,

harder to do so when you’re high,

when you’re less unhappy.

most of the time i find or position my glass on the floor

or at the edge of the table—internally hoping

for its majesty to be taken for a ride, to be taken for a bowling pin.

i am able, in the mornings, to pinpoint its exact location

after filing another missing child report,

paying for the privilege of lowering someone’s panties,

i am able to miraculously find it in one piece

at the bottom of some river, of the kitchen sink,

with all kinds of residue in it.

good old buddha is powerless against the likes of me.

c. a. campos, 2012

obligaciones

a las 8.35 de la mañana, josé se levantó de su silla y se marchó de la oficina sin decir una palabra, dejando a un lado el móvil, el trabajo, la mujer y los hijos sin más ni más.

se metió en un taxis y en un abrir y cerrar de ojos ya estaba abordando un avión. lo de menos era su preferencia, a esa altura, era su destinación. lo apremiante era alejarse antes de que empezara a arrepentirse, antes de que no fuese demasiado tarde.

con él, la ropa que llevaba puesta, un poco de dinero, un libro que no quería dejarse leer, sus preocupaciones.

c. a. campos, 2012

al oído

me acuesto con sarah, con maría, miosotis,
con versiones de la nada,
variaciones del miedo a los espejos, al vacío,
del miedo a la luz que atrae a los ojos,
que atrapa a los insectos, a los cachondos

me acuesto con el presente,
con sus tetas de silicona que saben a pasado, a futuro,
con sus piernas y trasero,
su vista o su pista para chichiguas o paracaídas,
para aterrizajes de emergencia

me acuesto o se me acuesta sin falta cada noche
a modo de compensación,
a modo de compasión por el afán a priori,
por los derrames del café y las migajas del pan,
por las horas extras y las horas muertas

me acuesto con los sueños, con las ganas,
con la desesperanza de la esperanza,
con tal cual ramera,
tal cual ama de casa que en lencería
me susurra que lo mejor está por suceder


c. a. campos, 2012

report card time

you begin with a set of advantages, a set of disadvantages,
with a pair of eyes & hands that often dislike to work
with each other

with a push, a pull, self-injurious tendencies
& a predisposition to browse, to bruise, to love, to hurt others

*

you begin in awe, in you had me at hello, & with the years
you end up striking a deal with the present 
& the future because of the past, your lack of leverage

with timing issues, not knowing when to speed or defer gratification,
when to let go or hold on for dear life

*

you begin with a coin flip, billiard balls, & a defense mechanism
setup to override the software,
ordered to keep others & you yourself out

with a head-scratcher, an incalculable risk,  
& a reward system that’s bound to go kaput


c. a. campos, 2012  

wisdom tooth

our goal is not to have a goal,
it's not to increase them as we sober up to drink,
as we're slowed & rushed along the conveyor belt

it's to redefine or do away with
the mortgaged, assembled & packaged in another country
ideas of success, of happiness

it's to try things at home (truth's never age appropriate),
to reassign blame, disarm pain,
to track down & torture hope, aspiration

the hell with posturing, keeping others in the loop,
with sharing tryout dates,
our monologues, trials & tribulations with the world

through serendipity, diligent work,
we have put purpose in its place,
we've become allergic to goal-god-oriented people


c. a. campos, 2012

arenas movedizas

«me acuerdo del futuro, de los planes del pasado»,
se anuncia enuncia, para sus adentros, el presente

«me acuerdo de sus piernas largas,
de cuando quise hacerle, quiso hacerme caso»,
se dice mientras se le va la mano, se masturba

«me acuerdo del hermano abel, del verbo haber,
de que éste solamente se emplea en singular
cuando se hace auxiliar de sí mismo»

«me acuerdo de las erecciones,
de lo escabroso que se me hacían disimularlas»,
entre comillas, entre paréntesis,
el presente continúa mascullándose para sí

«me acuerdo del pluscuamperfecto»


c. a. campos, 2012

quote of many a day, many a night

i'd like to think well of people; it sucks in practice, though.

c. a. campos, 2012

patidifuso

cuando llegas al fondo,

al dulce del café,

al corte de la falda, de la palabra a falta de aire, de lengua y de saliva

cuando bebes a morro de la lluvia, de los labios vaginales,  

de la botella que ha sabido asumir su papel, hacer acto de presencia   

cuando te agarras de los moños,

te arrodillas o te pones de cuclillas y metes la mano en la taza,

en el crucigrama a resolver de la verdad, de la fidelidad, infidelidad

o de lo que no se lleva bien con la felicidad

cuando apuras el trago y haces del vacío un paracaídas,

otra chichigua que no puede con su alicaída, 

cuando no vas ni se te espera y —como juega el niño con la mosca 

que aplasta, que estudia minuciosamente, 

tú el tiempo acribillas con el verbo ir, con el infinitivo, el vivir

cuando la escuchas, las cuarenta te cantas a solas o en compañía,

cómo ella, por igual, te incomoda, se te incorpora,

cómo ella ocasiona en ti otra alérgica reacción,

otro bravo, otra inusual ovación

c. a. campos, 2012

el oro y el moro

a polo moro

¿en qué tiempo verbal te defines?

¿en el presente de indicativo o presente de subjuntivo?

¿en el pretérito, el futuro o el condicional?

¿o en ninguno te sientes a solas, a tus anchas?

¿en qué tiempo desconfías menos del hogar, de tu lugar,

menos del corazón, más de la razón?

¿te citas a escondidas con la esperanza

y te deja ella plantado, con el ramo de flores en la mano?

¿en qué tiempo verbal no te serruchas, no te autocensuras?

¿ves un poco más lejos, un poco menos quedo?

¿te molesta menos la cercanía, la hipocresía,

tu ampliación a color, a blanco y negro?

¿en cuál verbo regular, irregular

no envidias al sol, a la lluvia, a los árboles?

¿a qué hora no te vas en balde, no se te hace tarde?

¿te dispones, te lo propones?

c. a. campos, 2012

fijación

nos escupe a la cara el buen espejo,
nos aruña,
nos corta la cara con la navaja de afeitar

el sarro, las lagañas nos muestra sin sonrojarse,
sin inmutarse la incipiente calvicie,
la parte que se esconde, que no aprobamos

nos miente cuando debería defender la verdad,
y la piedra, la verdad nos arroja cuando la mentira
es lo que alentaría, lo que encajaría mejor

el buen poema no corresponde, no responde
a todas las preguntas que se le formulan,
que nos hacemos en privado y en paños menores

sin pestañear, a él le tiene sin cuidado
dejarlas en blanco, dejarnos con el vaho, el bostezo,
con el mal aliento, el mal sabor en la boca

un pito le importa que debemos debamos
cargar a plena luz del día
con el muerto, con los añicos

c. a. campos, 2012

interrogante

los colores delatan a la luz,
el futuro le toma el pelo al presente y el pasado bosteza

el corazón amaga mas no se decide:
teme un paro cardiaco
o que se le vaya la mano con el vacío, con el rocío

afónicos:
los sentimientos, los insectos merodean la superficie,
se estrellan (kamikazes)
contra el autorretrato, contra el cristal de la ventana

y la mente no halla qué hacer con el alma, su plastilina,
mata el tiempo con su hueso favorito,
con la duda, la quinta pata del gato
no la quinta de mahler ni la quinta de beethoven

mientras que el hielo quiere romperse, hacerse añicos:
le tiene sin cuidado el agua, el frío, la profundidad,
el hecho de que algunos no saben hablar,
no saben nadar

c. a. campos, 2012

reconnaissance

when you’re out walking through the milky way,
careful with the black holes, the pitfalls,
with the footprints of the bigfoot we’ve been searching,
waiting for. careful with its yawn, the fog it leaves behind,
with the landmines whenever you’re out walking the dog,
nursing your fall, nursing your call.
careful with the undiscovered planets & the signs of life
when you’re trying to relocate the heart,
to audition, auction your plot of real estate, dark matter.
wave & smile & get moving if you’re spotted:
blood is the weakness of the universe
& here, on earth, it’s what makes the green grass grow.
beware of the stars, the pyres, booby traps
when sunbathing or going for a closer look.
they’re territorial entities.

c. a. campos, 2012.

stars

since time immemorial, some thing has had to entertain itself by setting fires all over the universe.

all that loneliness, all that solitude, all that power & no thing to share it with, to show it to.

all that void, all that darkness: no wonder wander it became an arsonist, a planter of fires.

fires which, not falling on fallow ground, have grown to become stars, teenage sensations.

c. a. campos, 2012

astronomy (astrology)

since pluto's demotion, life on earth hasn't been the same...

c. a. campos, 2012

zurrapa de café

salud, saludo;
ajo, carajo;
diantre, diablo

en el diccionario encontramos
el significado de las palabras,
¿en dónde encontramos
el de las personas?

c. a. campos, 2012

temporary arrangements

i can keep a job,
pay attention to you once, twice a week,
do the groceries
& keep the heater going,
the silence hovering over what you say,
what’s in play

i can close my eyes & count to ten,
giving you the chance to run away,
to seize the day without a scene,
without needing to be nice, to be mean

i can recycle & make a yard sale
out of useless knowledge, private moments,
air the place out
& make room for your bag of tricks,
your collection of shoes,
assortment of moods

i can make you less insecure,
less dependent on love, on foreign hope,
become more willing
to do more with less on your tour,
on your shopping experience

i can help you compare & contrast,
weigh the pros & cons of your heart,
of my laundry list,
make an educated guess
about which goods haven’t expired

i can read me from the comfort of my chair
the miranda rights,
help you study for the future,
share with you what i’ve found out
about attitude & solitude,
about honesty & privacy

c. a. campos, 2012

glitch

a stretch to call it a battle…

i stare at the window
& question marks stand at attention,
& answers, with no punctuation marks of their own,
at a loss for words
shrug their shoulders, scratch their heads

i stare at natural, far off light,
& at trees, shadows, things alive,
& in dismay exclamation marks look at each other,
say to themselves: what’s the point?
all this dreaming, all this screaming
is making us lose our voice,
all it’s doing is giving us a headache—
the hell with grammar,
with calling attention to ourselves

i stare with false mirrors & get lost in thought,
in a series of ellipses, of caesuras,
of alternate takes not originally part of the LP

instead of, initially, going for the remote control,
of staring at the tv screen & not minding the glitch,
the ditch or the fill in the blanks

you have to be stupid enough
to give things a value,
give them the significance they don’t possess

you don’t go to see a musician,
you go to hear him play,
go to hear him browse & bruise himself

it’s important to have someone in your vicinity
to hate, foster wallace recommends,
does it count when that someone is you yourself?

on the highway you see the world in its hot new ride
pass you by,
like state troopers & ambulances
the rules, regulations of traffic don’t apply to it:
don’t know why, don’t know whether to wave
or give it your middle finger

i stare with scarce, exhausted resources
& i barter with myself,
a stretch to call it a battle, self-improvement

c. a. campos, 2012

spam

anthrax, salmonella, breakbone fever,
there’s enough threat, enough viruses going around,
enough cans of worms opened already

i put mask & gloves on—drawing a line in the sand,
& pick the words hate, love, with forceps
so as not to intervene, not to interfere in their war & peace,
so as not to be touched, contaminated

odorless, flammable, regretable material,
i read out loud out of the box the words came in,
keep out of reach of children:
if swallowed, call immediately poison control

someone gregarious might have forwarded the words
to somebody he hates or that he loves,
or someone with nothing better to do
might have taken the trouble of returning the favor,
the spam to the ominous, anonymous sender

instead, with fingers crossed,
i reel love, hate, in & seal them in a plastic container:
hoping the lack of air
does to them what the lack of water does to fish,
does to known heavenly bodies

anthrax, salmonella, breakbone fever,
there’s enough threat, enough viruses going around,
enough cans of worms opened already

c. a. campos, 2012

off-key

these are the wrong notes,
not the right ones
as you by now must have realized

the wrong ones,
if you must also know,
since the right ones haven’t worked out

nature letting her hair grow too long
or shaving it
as if she were in mourning

the sun distancing himself
or coming closer
and violating somebody’s private space

the moon not feeling shortchanged
or left out
but right at home in obscurity

these are the bars of the song,
participation
or improvisation is encouraged

c. a. campos, 2009.

facetious

till further notice
the water fountain is tired of the coins,
of the wishing

it would like a nice break
from thursdays wishing to be hippier, to be fridays,
from sundays, after so much god talk,
deep down regretting being a prelude to work,
being a prelude to monday morning blues
or to people calling in sick to the office

it would like not to hear for a few days
from a good portion of the population,
from the greed of more money,
more toys, more shoes, or more sleeping partners,
from the left hand & its wish for the right hand
to stop pointing the finger in its direction,
for the right to own up
to a sizable, sinkable chunk of the blame,
of the responsibility

the more coins we drop in it,
the more we hope, we bargain before its presence
the dirtier its water becomes,
the more the water fountain turns a deaf ear
& craves for a shower,
rushes for a tourniquet, rushes to be flushed,
wishes for a lever to resort to
like the one the toilet bowl comes along with

the water fountain is sick of being set up to fail,
of not being able to come through,
sick of having to pardon our appearance,
of being used as an accessory, a mirror

narcissus’s name is on its most wanted list

c. a. campos, 2012

window shopping

the glass is perfect,
half full & half empty,
half under water, half up in the air,
half tempting & half disappointing

the glass's a cousin of the mirror,
an unknown relative of perception,
of the unearth-shattering,
malleable truth

it matters little the intent,
the calories, the alcohol content,
the glass impartially
soothes & bruises you: cheers!

c. a. campos, 2012

smoke & mirrors

i get a kick out of making others go to the dictionary,
go to google or to wikipedia,
out of finding my niche off the books,
in the everyday, commonplace acts of daydreaming,
of sugarcoating most of life
even though i’m no fan of sugar, no fan of sci-fi

i get a kick out of counting the last pages of a read,
out of keeping an eye on the sake, on the flesh,
on the moon whenever sleep is of no help
so as to make sure that the moon isn’t contemplating
jetting out on the ocean,
jetting out on some lunatic because of medication

i get a kick out of being a prick, in other words,
out of making any yes come across as a no,
out of making myself unapproachable, untranslatable,
out of doing what’s asked & expected
so that later on in life it’ll be less of a chance
of others interrupting me,
of others noticing the rabbit hole in the wall

i get a kick out of improvisation, out of songs
that are lowered little by little so as to simulate an ending,
so as to cover the fact that the musician wasn’t able
to work out an ending,
work out a compromise with what he or she
had promised to deliver,
had promised to work on after the performance

i get a kick out of not knowing how to explain pain
to a doctor, how to explain conformity to a dream,
out of rereading & or multiple listening experiences
since it takes so much to convince me,
for me to approve any reasonable course of action

c. a. campos, 2012

adiós

ellos han ganado la partida,
esperaba la derrota, eso es cierto,
pero no tan pronto,
no sin antes descubrirla por mi cuenta

el por qué, el para qué
y el otro porqué gramatical
como el café y el futuro ya no me hacen efecto,
ni fu ni fa aun cuando me lo impongo,
aun cuando me lo propongo

ellos la ganaron con dificultad (nimia razón
para sentir orgullo),
yo la he perdido
aunque no corra la suerte del herido,
la suerte del que se sana o se muere,
del que se escapa o se disfraza
de héroe o de víctima

fuegos fatuos, cómo no incitarlos,
no enviarles un giro postal,
cómo no avivar a las células cancerosas
de la verdad, de la novedad

la guerra fría la ganaron con los monosílabos
para alentar, desahogar a la respiración,
con las esdrújulas, sobresdrújulas
para que yo llegase sin aire,
con la lengua fuera a la rima,
a la sima o más nunca, jamás a la cima

la esperaba, la noticia, eso es cierto,
aunque soñase con victoria,
con la historia y sus pseudoproblemas, pseudosoluciones,
aunque soñase con la ketamina
o el escondite de alicia

c. a. campos, 2012

en lontananza

curso de poesía a distancia, de utopía,
de invitarme a pasear y quedarme sentado,
ni fu ni fa,
de no estar a años luz de la oscuridad,
de la verdad, la maldad

curso a distancia por la cercanía, la radiografía,
por el pronóstico o la óptica de la rabia,
de la cuántica o la palabra,
la saliva que tragamos o escupimos

curso por correspondencia de oniromancia,
de cafedomancia pagado a corto plazo,
a plazo fijo,
con promesas mas sin garantías,
sin devoluciones

curso de riesgo, de ser necio a distancia,
de intervención médica o tardía,
sobre la flema y la bilis negra,
sobre las cuatro sustancias básicas
o los cuatro humores

curso, taller patético, poético del espejo,
de la sobredosis
patrocinado por nuestro entorno,
por la estupidez o escasez de asombro,
por el déficit,
la alarma interior o falta de calma

taller a vista de pájaro,
de quiromancia, trabalenguas a distancia

c. a. campos, 2012

scat singing

with you in front of the mirror,
you pointing the finger at your washed, perfumed reflection,
with you catching yourself half-jokingly humming
at least i’m still fuckable, lovable material,
this is how an out of the norm day makes its appearance,
how a good day usually begins,
with a tiny but timely omission (almost wrote remission)
& not with an admission of guilt,
not with a discovery or some sort of age-old revelation,
after you’ve shaved, brushed teeth, washed away your dreams
& god only knows what other bodily secretions,
this is how fog flourishes in the mirror,
in the morning,
how the agreeable generally sneaks up on you

c. a. campos, 2012

happy notes

feeling well means feeling less jaded, less disappointed,
less mindful of what others have done,
of what you have undone,
less mindful of the brain’s poor reward system

means feeling less unapproachable,
less disgusting, less disgusted,
less likely not to catch yourself saying
at least is not snowing when it’s pouring
& your umbrella goes flying as if it were a kite,
as if it were a plastic bag meant to be recycled

it means not minding life on layaway, on an installment plan,
or feeling less likely to have yourself committed,
less likely to commit a crime or commit the unthinkable,
the unfathomable,
or feeling less prone not to commit to someone,
not to commit to a lost cause or some jekyll & hyde,
dream/nightmare combination

it means (well, you get the pic)

c. a. campos, 2012

ennui

the answers to the survey ran from drug overdose to drowning,
from the classical hanging yourself
to the postmodern, postmortem
manner of going on a killing spree & ending up on death row,
from the romantic idea of slowly freezing your behind in alaska
while reading to build a fire
to the slashing of your wrists in the tub

from freaking out at the question, at the suggestion,
to cursing me out for taking him or her there, in the first place

from the expected outcomes in a controlled environment
to the more interesting
“life’s so insignificant that killing yourself isn’t worth the effort,”
“the earth’s refurbished material & life’s a colossal failure,”
to the as well meaningful, mindful
“what was wrong with me?
why was i running from cubicle to cubicle
& bothering people about dying, about unplugging themselves?,
why wasn’t i inquiring instead about their plans for the future,
about the three-day weekend coming up ahead?”

the gamut ran from the grotesque to the absurd, to the autistic,
as i kept on asking, tallying, & handpicking from the responses,
as i kept on editing, mortifying, or modifying the ones
that made the final cut,
that were included in the suicide for dummies instruction manual

the results of the out of the blue initiative, queer experimentation,
not disappointing me in the least (a tall order)

c. a. campos, 2012

hálito

ese, o, ele, o:
me deletreo para matar el tiempo,
para no ponerme a dormir

mientras lluvia con viento, allá fuera,
y paraguas,
palabras sin destinatario,
sin oralidad

me deletreo
sin el acento ortográfico,
con el eco o el hueco prosódico
y el nudo en la garganta

e invierno o enero, allá fuera,
el solo o el vuelo de los cuervos,
de los silenciadores y las chimeneas

lo de menos si lo hago en cursiva
o en letra de molde:
ese, o, ele, o

c. a. campos, 2012