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    Under Regime and Other Stories – Gerald Fleming

    Kneading Language And Feelings in Palermo – Gianluca Asmundo’s Marionette Theater Poems

    Kneading Language And Feelings in Palermo – Gianluca Asmundo’s Marionette Theater Poems

    As a Lonely Boat Rushes Into a Storm: Selected Poems by Ndue Ukaj

    As a Lonely Boat Rushes Into a Storm: Selected Poems by Ndue Ukaj

    Like a Dream Spinning Out of Control – Poems by Nina Sadeghi

    Interview with a Clothesline and Other Poems – Nina Lindsay

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Triptychs of Nocturnal Souls and Oceans – Malika Afilal

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    SKY – Julio Monteiro Martins

    SKY – Julio Monteiro Martins

    Turning Shell Casings Into Angels – Mihaela Šuman’s Gaza Project

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    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Hope, People and a Tale of Fire – Prabuddha Ghosh, with a translator’s note by Rituparna Mukherjee

    Trimohinee, Chapter One – Kazi Rafi

    Trimohinee, Chapter One – Kazi Rafi

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    MIST IS A HOME’S VEST – Kabir Deb

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    An Hour Before – Appadurai Muttulingam

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Five Short Pieces from Being Somebody Else – Lynne Knight

    As my eye meanders in nature – Photographs by Susan Aberg

    A Gilded Cage – Haroonuzzaman

    The Spanish Steps, Revisited: A Temporary Exhibition – A conversation with Sheila Pepe

    The Importance of Being Imperfect – Haroonuzzaman

  • Non Fiction
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    Identity, Language and Nationalism in Spain and the U.S. – Clark Bouwman

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Excess of Presence: Surveillance, Seizure, and Detention in Latine/a Literature & Film – Edward Avila

    Brokering The Link: In the Shadow of Many Mothers – Farah Ahamed 

    Brokering The Link: In the Shadow of Many Mothers – Farah Ahamed 

    Urban Alienation: Dhaka Through Literary Lenses – Haroonuzzaman

    Urban Alienation: Dhaka Through Literary Lenses – Haroonuzzaman

    I AM STILL HERE: It’s not a movie, it’s a hymn to democracy – Loretta Emiri

    I AM STILL HERE: It’s not a movie, it’s a hymn to democracy – Loretta Emiri

    Requiem for a Mattanza – Gia Marie Amella

    Requiem for a Mattanza – Gia Marie Amella

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    Pulsing beneath the soil of Bengal -Review of Kazi Rafi’s novel Trimohinee – Nadira Bhabna

    Turning Shell Casings Into Angels – Mihaela Šuman’s Gaza Project

    Turning Shell Casings Into Angels – Mihaela Šuman’s Gaza Project

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    History Goes On, Let’s Stop and Breathe – Kithamerini interviews Tanya Maliarchuk

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    I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO BE PATTI SMITH – Pina Piccolo

    I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO BE PATTI SMITH – Pina Piccolo

    Stefan Reiterer at Museum gegenstandsfreier Kunst – Camilla Boemio

    In-Flight – Clark Bouwman

    a pile of my dream notes (excerpted) – Andrew Choate

    a pile of my dream notes (excerpted) – Andrew Choate

    This Page Is An Occupied Territory – Adeena Karasick and Warren Lehrer

    This Page Is An Occupied Territory – Adeena Karasick and Warren Lehrer

    A Few Beasts from Brenda Porster’s Bilingual Collection ” La bambina e le bestie”

    A Few Beasts from Brenda Porster’s Bilingual Collection ” La bambina e le bestie”

    As my eye meanders in nature – Photographs by Susan Aberg

    In Defence of Disorder – Haroonuzzaman

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    WAITING FOR PALMS, Peter Ydeen at Lisi Gallery in Rome, through December 19

    Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

    Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

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    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

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    Like a Dream Spinning Out of Control – Poems by Nina Sadeghi

    In memoriam: Elsa Mathews

    Imaginary Poets Boghos Üryanzade and The Pseudo-Melkon. From Neil P. Doherty’s The Stony Guests

    Under Regime and Other Stories – Gerald Fleming

    Kneading Language And Feelings in Palermo – Gianluca Asmundo’s Marionette Theater Poems

    Kneading Language And Feelings in Palermo – Gianluca Asmundo’s Marionette Theater Poems

    As a Lonely Boat Rushes Into a Storm: Selected Poems by Ndue Ukaj

    As a Lonely Boat Rushes Into a Storm: Selected Poems by Ndue Ukaj

    Like a Dream Spinning Out of Control – Poems by Nina Sadeghi

    Interview with a Clothesline and Other Poems – Nina Lindsay

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Triptychs of Nocturnal Souls and Oceans – Malika Afilal

  • Fiction
    SKY – Julio Monteiro Martins

    SKY – Julio Monteiro Martins

    Turning Shell Casings Into Angels – Mihaela Šuman’s Gaza Project

    Excerpt from the novel “Ardesia” – Ruska Jorjoliani

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Hope, People and a Tale of Fire – Prabuddha Ghosh, with a translator’s note by Rituparna Mukherjee

    Trimohinee, Chapter One – Kazi Rafi

    Trimohinee, Chapter One – Kazi Rafi

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    MIST IS A HOME’S VEST – Kabir Deb

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    An Hour Before – Appadurai Muttulingam

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Five Short Pieces from Being Somebody Else – Lynne Knight

    As my eye meanders in nature – Photographs by Susan Aberg

    A Gilded Cage – Haroonuzzaman

    The Spanish Steps, Revisited: A Temporary Exhibition – A conversation with Sheila Pepe

    The Importance of Being Imperfect – Haroonuzzaman

  • Non Fiction
    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Identity, Language and Nationalism in Spain and the U.S. – Clark Bouwman

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Excess of Presence: Surveillance, Seizure, and Detention in Latine/a Literature & Film – Edward Avila

    Brokering The Link: In the Shadow of Many Mothers – Farah Ahamed 

    Brokering The Link: In the Shadow of Many Mothers – Farah Ahamed 

    Urban Alienation: Dhaka Through Literary Lenses – Haroonuzzaman

    Urban Alienation: Dhaka Through Literary Lenses – Haroonuzzaman

    I AM STILL HERE: It’s not a movie, it’s a hymn to democracy – Loretta Emiri

    I AM STILL HERE: It’s not a movie, it’s a hymn to democracy – Loretta Emiri

    Requiem for a Mattanza – Gia Marie Amella

    Requiem for a Mattanza – Gia Marie Amella

  • Interviews & reviews
    Sicilian Interviews: Nino Alba and the problem of the land – Gia Marie Amella

    Sicilian Interviews: Nino Alba and the problem of the land – Gia Marie Amella

    FROM VENICE TO AN ACADEMY AWARDS NOMINATION: ON  FRED KUDJO KUWORNU’S BLACK RENAISSANCE – Reginaldo Cerolini

    FROM VENICE TO AN ACADEMY AWARDS NOMINATION: ON FRED KUDJO KUWORNU’S BLACK RENAISSANCE – Reginaldo Cerolini

    Pulsing beneath the soil of Bengal -Review of Kazi Rafi’s novel Trimohinee – Nadira Bhabna

    Pulsing beneath the soil of Bengal -Review of Kazi Rafi’s novel Trimohinee – Nadira Bhabna

    Turning Shell Casings Into Angels – Mihaela Šuman’s Gaza Project

    Turning Shell Casings Into Angels – Mihaela Šuman’s Gaza Project

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    History Goes On, Let’s Stop and Breathe – Kithamerini interviews Tanya Maliarchuk

    Zarina Zabrisky’s KHERSON: HUMAN SAFARI, review by Pina Piccolo

    Zarina Zabrisky’s KHERSON: HUMAN SAFARI, review by Pina Piccolo

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    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Movement Class at the Holistic Institute – Carolyn Miller

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    (Their) STORY (is Ours) – séamas carraher

    Surveillance & Seizure under the Bio/Necropolitical (B)order of Power – Edward Avila

    I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO BE PATTI SMITH – Pina Piccolo

    I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO BE PATTI SMITH – Pina Piccolo

    Stefan Reiterer at Museum gegenstandsfreier Kunst – Camilla Boemio

    In-Flight – Clark Bouwman

    a pile of my dream notes (excerpted) – Andrew Choate

    a pile of my dream notes (excerpted) – Andrew Choate

    This Page Is An Occupied Territory – Adeena Karasick and Warren Lehrer

    This Page Is An Occupied Territory – Adeena Karasick and Warren Lehrer

    A Few Beasts from Brenda Porster’s Bilingual Collection ” La bambina e le bestie”

    A Few Beasts from Brenda Porster’s Bilingual Collection ” La bambina e le bestie”

    As my eye meanders in nature – Photographs by Susan Aberg

    In Defence of Disorder – Haroonuzzaman

  • News
    Waiting for Palms. A conversation with Peter Ydeen – Camilla Boemio

    WAITING FOR PALMS, Peter Ydeen at Lisi Gallery in Rome, through December 19

    Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

    Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

    PER/FORMATIVE CITIES

    PER/FORMATIVE CITIES

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

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Home Poetry

Four poems from “un incesante caer de estrellas en la nada” – josé eugenio sánchez

December 8, 2024
in Poetry, The dreaming machine n 15
Four poems from “un incesante caer de estrellas en la nada” –  josé eugenio sánchez
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Selfie

and there are days when you are a refined porcelain vase
shattered to pieces on the ground
where it’s easier to be thrown in the trash
than to be glued together again

though that’s the way you are,
you integrate yourself with the patched figurines on the shelf
pretending to be useful
and inspiring
getting people to believe that your non-existent cavity
is still ready to receive the beauty
of many dead flowers

and then there are days when neither anxiety pills nor the anxiety ridden offer solutions
you’re just like that
blameless and shameless
devastation that does nothing to save face
yet arranges for you to bump into others who are having a harder time
and comment on how good you look

(from the book: piropos musicales de la indigencia)

the dew covering the flowers is mechanically assisted

when the poor are dead and gone
and the rich inherit and that’s it
meaning: when everything is back to normal
and the fish in the sea are entangled in face masks
and bottles of antiviral medicine
and packages of instant soup are cooked
on gushing petroleum
that is: when everything is back to normal
and the sky grows red with gases and particulate
and endangered birds plummet over endangered species
which are rotting on top of other endangered animals
like cold cuts and hams inside a sandwich
that is: when everything is back to normal
and pedophiles resume their ritual acts
murderers clean their weapons with their victims’ spit
and get orgasms with corpses and banknotes
that is: when everything is back to normal
and we go looking for love drugs employment debts
or anything that makes you feel alive
or motivated to put an end to your existence
the enemies of power will go on being furious because they don’t have it
and power lovers will love it so much
imagining that it is a scientific discovery
ignoring that to the flies buzzing around us
we smell like appetizing shit
that is: when everything is back to normal

from the book: los instantes cuando envejece la suerte (moments when luck grows old)

some warning signs that we are more tik tok than tumblr

no need for anyone else to ruin your life
(such a pretentious attitude, sophisticated insights
fake as obsession)
usually problems with people arise from lack of sex
not because we are disposable
but because there is no room for it
no fuss if we die and rot
straws shall inherit the earth
(they are only used to shake the ice f gin and tonics
or tire them in a drink
and they’ll outlast us)
in the end the planet will turn us into a vain mist in the cosmos
and there’ll be enough millions of years for the glass
and plastic and styrofoam to disappear
or transform
and the earth will continue to spin out of control
in the human temper tantrum of attempting to persist in some memory
(even if it is a flash drive):
we are worried dinosaurs seeing the meteorite directly coming to crush us
yet we continue to create expectations
forgetting that we were discovered seeking tranquillity as we escaped an explosion
and that we shall then flee from the fire we ourselves ignite
believing that we are saving ourselves

from the book: el moco que sostiene este virus se está secando (the mucus that sustains this virus is drying up)

those dusty afternoons when the government invested in producing its criminals

he was already dead
laying there between stones and pick ups
with two bodyguards
he was already dead
but before that:
a bullet in the head
another in the back of the neck
one in the back
two in the buttocks
one more in the elbow
from the very first drop his blood burned like a casino
the last thing he saw
before the decapitated thickets on the horizon turned dark
it was 12 when one of his security guys
kwas shot and killed
and the other ran away crawling in the sand
soon to be captured
or rather, let’s say
that they didn’t catch him
and he manages to cross the border
and eludes the border patrol
the fbi cia interpol
and mocks the dea
and waits in line at immigration with his documents
and becomes legal
and then enrolls at Harvard
and later becomes the first hispanic president of the united states of america
but no problem
because this way it goes on benefitting
those who benefit from this business

from the book: catálogo en línea para el llenar el carrito con el fichero del resentimiento (online catalog for filling the cart with resentment file)

selfie

y hay días en que uno es un finísimo jarrón de porcelana

hecho añicos en el suelo

donde es más fácil tirarse a la basura

que buscar un arreglo

y aún así

uno se integra a la estantería de figuras resanadas

simulando ser útil

e inspirador

haciendo creer que su inexistente hueco

todavía puede recibir la belleza

de muchas flores muertas

y hay días que ni los ansiolíticos ni los ansiosos ofrecen solución

y es únicamente la ruina

intachable y descarada

que no salva apariencias

y hace que te topes con otros que la están pasando peor

y comentan lo bien que te ves

(del libro: piropos musicales de la indigencia)

el manto de rocío sobre las flores está asistido por un respirador mecánico

cuando los pobres se mueran y ya

y los ricos hereden y ya

o sea: cuando todo vuelva a la normalidad

y en el mar los peces se enreden en cubrebocas

y frascos de antivirales

y empaques de sopas instantáneas que se cocinan

en los borbotones de petróleo

o sea: cuando todo vuelva a la normalidad

y el cielo esté enrojecido de gases y partículas

y las aves en extinción se precipiten sobre animales en extinción

que se pudren sobre otros animales en extinción

como fiambres y jamones de un sándwich

o sea: cuando todo vuelva a la normalidad

y los pederastas reinicien sus actos rituales

los asesinos limpien sus armas con la saliva de sus víctimas

y consigan orgasmos con cadáveres y billetes

o sea: cuando todo vuelva a la normalidad

y andemos buscando amor drogas empleo deudas

o cualquier cosa que te haga sentir vital

o motivado para acabar con la existencia

los enemigos del poder seguirán furiosos porque no lo tienen

y los amantes del poder lo amarán tanto

imaginando que es un descubrimiento científico

ignorando que las moscas que nos zumban alrededor

nos huelen como una mierda apetitosa

o sea: cuando todo vuelva a la normalidad

(del libro: los instantes cuando envejece la suerte)

algunos síntomas que advierten que somos más tik tok que tmbrl

no necesitas de nadie para arruinar tu vida
(esa actitud pretensiosa perspicaz sofisticada
pero falsa como la obsesión)
por lo regular los problemas con las personas surgen por la falta de sexo
y no es porque seamos desechables
sino porque no hay espacio para eso
si nos morimos y nos pudrimos no hay lío
pero los popotes heredarán la tierra
(sólo sirven para agitar los hielos del gin tonic
o aburrirlos en un refresco

y van a permanecer más que nosotros)
: al final el planeta nos convertirá en un vanidoso vaho en el cosmos
y habrá suficientes millones de años para que el vidrio

y el plástico y el unicel desaparezcan

o se transformen
y la tierra seguirá girando desorbitada
en el berrinche humano de intentar permanecer en alguna memoria
(aunque sea usb):

somos dinosaurios que se preocupan al ver directamente el meteorito que viene a aplastarnos
y seguimos creando expectativas
olvidando que nos encontramos mientras escapábamos de una explosión buscando calma
y que luego huiremos del incendio que provocamos
creyendo que nos estamos salvando

(del libro: el moco que sostiene este virus se está secando)


aquellas polvorosas tardes cuando el gobierno invirtió en producir sus criminales

ya estaba muerto

abandonado entre tepocates y pick ups

con dos guardaespaldas

ya estaba muerto

pero antes:

un balazo en la cabeza

otro en la nuca

uno en la espalda

dos en las nalgas

uno más en el codo

desde la primera gota su sangre ardió como casino

lo último que vio

antes de que se oscurecieran los matorrales decapitados en el horizonte

fue a 12 que le disparaban

a uno de sus escoltas abatido

y al otro huyendo arrastrándose en la arena

pero al rato lo capturan

o digamos

que no lo atrapan

y logra cruzar la frontera

y elude a la border patrol

fbi cia interpol

y burla a la dea

y con documentos hace fila en migración

y consigue legalizarse

y luego se inscribe en harvard

y después se convierte en el primer presidente hispano de los estados unidos de américa

pues no hay problema

porque seguiría beneficiando

a los que este business beneficia

(del libro: catálogo en línea para el llenar el carrito con el fichero del resentimiento)

josé eugenio sánchez (guadalajara méxico 1965) is the author of phyiscal graffiti, la felicidad es una pistola caliente, galaxy limited café, jack boner and the rebellion, escenas sagradas del oriente, here´s the sun is for real. novio2001@gmail.com+52 1 8110480218

josé eugenio sánchez (guadalajara méxico 1965) autor de phyiscal graffiti, la felicidad es una pistola caliente, galaxy limited café, jack boner and the rebellion, escenas sagradas del oriente, here´s the sun is for real. novio2001@gmail.com+52 1 8110480218

Tags: brokenesscapitalismhumorironyJosé Eugenio SanchezMexicoPoetrysocial criticismUSAvoid
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