Anny Ballardini
I am the snake drag queen
I am l’Aventurera by Gout, Michele Pierri with eleven children
I am the Iti the Gringa
I am the African, the Algerian, Derrida at La Sorbonne
I am el Topo
I am my own naked child my wife
I am my 4 enemies
I am my crippled outdistanced isolated group
I am my Apocalypse Now
I am Teresa Melo
I am Deuteronomy I’m the Devil
I am the Protestant, the Christian, the Agnostic, the Jew
I am the synthesis of my thesis and antithesis
I am the tooth
I am the subjective of the objective
I am the objective of the subjective
I am the Tulane library
I am the idea of displacement
I am the in-between_ness, Bréton and Cocteau
I am the hurricane and the carnival the Green and the Blue
I am the Manifesto of the Surreal
I am the surreal of the manifest
I am the real without the manifest
I am sure there is no real
There is no such thing as repetition but insistence
Susan Schultz when talking of Gertrude Stein
                                                                           after Meg Withers / page 46
                                                                           (ellipsis) an epiphany
                                                                           (underscore) tears
                                                                           (underscore) dying
                                                                           (underscore) our
                                                                           (underscore ellipsis) bodies
                                                                           (underscore ellipsis ellipsis) without skeleton
                                                                           (capital letter) Death has come with its scythe and it
                                                                           reached our home
                                                                           (ellipsis) and (capital letter) He walked down and told them
                                                                           to stand up and eat (ellipsis)
SUICIDES
float  up like
colored balloons
“Look    at that one,
daddy!” a kid points
to the third last
in a row the
most
complex
with Hippocrates’
hues lingering above
Paradise Restaurant.
Christian,
by name not
by creed,
says
on
the phone:
I know      you know
and   an    echoing
what   has been
hollowing in
me
ODE TO THE GARBAGE CAN
                                                            Marianne Faithful, Say it in broken English
waste bins   trash cans   in stainless steel   free standing   built-in   commercial   outdoor   smokers’ urns   for bathrooms   medical or recycling   adorned with trash bags   in durable metal   fiberglass   plastic   wood bamboo   glass   aluminium concrete   in heavy-duty steel to withstand harsh weather conditions   water-proof with tilt-out trash units    all sizes   all colors from the spectrum of light   :
in wavelengths and frequency intervals
mauve   lavender magenta   chartreuse   viridian   tangerine   apricot   lime   psychedelic purple   burgundy   aqua   salmon   crimson   army green   terra cotta   azure   fuchsia   jade   salmon   brass   turquoise   bistre   wisteria   cyan   deep cerise   lilac   papaya whip   zinnwaldite   amber   French rose and French blue   elegant shades of grey (arsenic, taupe)   heliotrope   indigo   Pearl   ivory   mint green   saffron   Tea rose   amaranth
what organizational rationality
                                             a drainage system
                                             sparkling clean homes
what genteel dreaming estates
                                             bottle shards on bordering walls
                                             to keep thieves out _ microbial fauna eliminated
what an uplifting relief
                                             a tornado
                                             unwanted debris sucked out
what indescribable soaring
                                             Quetzalcoatl
                                             the feather serpent
                                                            Olé! Teresita!
                                                            Linda mujerita!
                                                            Hay amor come me has puesto
                                                            Hay hay hay
Hay
I
thank you, garbage cans
for having emptied our pasts
of confessional poetry
TIMES’ GAPS
DB
CF
                              in their memory
our times
               distant and different from the following times
               free love? Maybe
               with the gloomy viscous bat of Christianity
                              Life is a horizontal fall
                                                  by Jean Cocteau
then there came the yuppies
               they’d sell their mothers for a Martini
               let alone parts of their bodies
               free love as pitiful commerce
               the same term ‘love’ went out of fashion
               used as the formal epitaph on tombstones
               on the plus computers became a must
then there came the need for uniqueness
               at an international and personal level
               the conscious need to reassert one’s own self (-consciousness)
               I’m not you
               cultural identities made news headlines
               on the plus mutual responsibility became a must
then there came social catharsis for change
               Pound’s make it new turned into a creed
               dramatic global recognition of greenhouse effects sound air water pollution
               on the minus whole food chains at exorbitant prices
then there came dissolution
               religions at stake
               lies unveiled
               that is where we are now
               still a year to go.
                              To the States
                              To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States,
                              Resist much, obey little.
                              Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,
                              Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever
                              afterward resumes its liberty.
                                                  by Walt Whitman
generational imprints
a codified automated DNA perceived as intuition
Aztec stars dictating performative gestures
in the everlasting sameness for the single being
updated perception’s urgent changes in the collective unconscious delirium.
Anny Ballardini lives in Bolzano, Italy. She grew up in New York, lived in New Orleans, Buenos Aires, Florence. A poet, translator and interpreter (simultaneous interpreter for English, French, Italian), she teaches high school; edits Poets' Corner - Fieralingue, an online poetry site; and maintains a blog, Narcissus Works. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from UNO, University of New Orleans, Chair and Director Bill Lavender. Besides various full length publications of translations on the market, to be mentioned is her collection of poems, Opening and Closing Numbers, published by Moria Editions, 2005. Otoliths will be publishing Ghost Dance in 31 Movements, her thesis collection, later this year. A detailed CV can be found here.
     contents     next page
hulaan = music
kundimaan = Philippino lowe song
she wonders why the sea behaves so strangely; today, its stillness unnerves her, she knows that it’s |
extraneous in a land where there is no sea and the sky breaks into violent storms and words rise to midair with the calls of birds                         wolfsong, found poems. ///                         after Barbara Jane Reyes |
I am the snake drag queen
I am l’Aventurera by Gout, Michele Pierri with eleven children
I am the Iti the Gringa
I am the African, the Algerian, Derrida at La Sorbonne
I am el Topo
I am my own naked child my wife
I am my 4 enemies
I am my crippled outdistanced isolated group
I am my Apocalypse Now
I am Teresa Melo
I am Deuteronomy I’m the Devil
I am the Protestant, the Christian, the Agnostic, the Jew
I am the synthesis of my thesis and antithesis
I am the tooth
I am the subjective of the objective
I am the objective of the subjective
I am the Tulane library
I am the idea of displacement
I am the in-between_ness, Bréton and Cocteau
I am the hurricane and the carnival the Green and the Blue
I am the Manifesto of the Surreal
I am the surreal of the manifest
I am the real without the manifest
I am sure there is no real
Susan Schultz when talking of Gertrude Stein
                                                                           after Meg Withers / page 46
                                                                           (ellipsis) an epiphany
                                                                           (underscore) tears
                                                                           (underscore) dying
                                                                           (underscore) our
                                                                           (underscore ellipsis) bodies
                                                                           (underscore ellipsis ellipsis) without skeleton
                                                                           (capital letter) Death has come with its scythe and it
                                                                           reached our home
                                                                           (ellipsis) and (capital letter) He walked down and told them
                                                                           to stand up and eat (ellipsis)
DEUTERONOMY 09:50
float  up like
colored balloons
“Look    at that one,
daddy!” a kid points
to the third last
in a row the
most
complex
with Hippocrates’
hues lingering above
Paradise Restaurant.
Christian,
by name not
by creed,
says
on
the phone:
I know      you know
and   an    echoing
what   has been
hollowing in
me
ODE TO THE GARBAGE CAN
                                                            Marianne Faithful, Say it in broken English
waste bins   trash cans   in stainless steel   free standing   built-in   commercial   outdoor   smokers’ urns   for bathrooms   medical or recycling   adorned with trash bags   in durable metal   fiberglass   plastic   wood bamboo   glass   aluminium concrete   in heavy-duty steel to withstand harsh weather conditions   water-proof with tilt-out trash units    all sizes   all colors from the spectrum of light   :
in wavelengths and frequency intervals
mauve   lavender magenta   chartreuse   viridian   tangerine   apricot   lime   psychedelic purple   burgundy   aqua   salmon   crimson   army green   terra cotta   azure   fuchsia   jade   salmon   brass   turquoise   bistre   wisteria   cyan   deep cerise   lilac   papaya whip   zinnwaldite   amber   French rose and French blue   elegant shades of grey (arsenic, taupe)   heliotrope   indigo   Pearl   ivory   mint green   saffron   Tea rose   amaranth
what organizational rationality
                                             a drainage system
                                             sparkling clean homes
what genteel dreaming estates
                                             bottle shards on bordering walls
                                             to keep thieves out _ microbial fauna eliminated
what an uplifting relief
                                             a tornado
                                             unwanted debris sucked out
what indescribable soaring
                                             Quetzalcoatl
                                             the feather serpent
                                                            Olé! Teresita!
                                                            Linda mujerita!
                                                            Hay amor come me has puesto
                                                            Hay hay hay
Hay
I
sing of the white man   with blue eyes   his stirring beauty   the one who migrated to mines   caught as a prisoner of a war he did not know   existed   and of another man   forced to a war he knew   :::   gutters etched out into the guts of earth   _Anthracite Annual Report Pennsylvania Mining Activities_    deafening magnetism broken backs   your ribs against the ribs of earth   lungs as rock   your flesh so lean you are bone   clinging like an hermit to the caves’ cartilage   _WATER_AIR_LIGHT_   pulp mates under the rumble   (pray and see)   in the swallowing vertiginous darkness those in your visions   (they will never understand)   your broken teeth under the suffocating tension of 16-18 hours in the night to come out and collapse in the night so that
WEEEEEEEEEEEEE
can be white-collared Elizabeth queens projected silvery queers
thank you, garbage cans
for having emptied our pasts
of confessional poetry
TIMES’ GAPS
CF
                              in their memory
In the domain of knowledge, we encounter this logic of separation when, all of a sudden, we see that what we thought was the limitation of our knowledge about a thing is in fact an inherent limitation of the thing itself.
              from Interrogating the Real by Slavoj Zizek
our times
               distant and different from the following times
               free love? Maybe
               with the gloomy viscous bat of Christianity
                              Life is a horizontal fall
                                                  by Jean Cocteau
then there came the yuppies
               they’d sell their mothers for a Martini
               let alone parts of their bodies
               free love as pitiful commerce
               the same term ‘love’ went out of fashion
               used as the formal epitaph on tombstones
               on the plus computers became a must
then there came the need for uniqueness
               at an international and personal level
               the conscious need to reassert one’s own self (-consciousness)
               I’m not you
               cultural identities made news headlines
               on the plus mutual responsibility became a must
then there came social catharsis for change
               Pound’s make it new turned into a creed
               dramatic global recognition of greenhouse effects sound air water pollution
               on the minus whole food chains at exorbitant prices
then there came dissolution
               religions at stake
               lies unveiled
               that is where we are now
               still a year to go.
                              To the States
                              To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States,
                              Resist much, obey little.
                              Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,
                              Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever
                              afterward resumes its liberty.
                                                  by Walt Whitman
generational imprints
a codified automated DNA perceived as intuition
Aztec stars dictating performative gestures
in the everlasting sameness for the single being
updated perception’s urgent changes in the collective unconscious delirium.
How, then, are we to specify this ‘knowledge’ which, even in our era of cynicism, brings about effects in the Real? Perhaps the best approach to it is via the opposition between violent coercion and ‘genuine’ subordination.
              From The Indivisible Remainder: on Shelling and Related Matters, by Slavoj Zizek
Anny Ballardini lives in Bolzano, Italy. She grew up in New York, lived in New Orleans, Buenos Aires, Florence. A poet, translator and interpreter (simultaneous interpreter for English, French, Italian), she teaches high school; edits Poets' Corner - Fieralingue, an online poetry site; and maintains a blog, Narcissus Works. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from UNO, University of New Orleans, Chair and Director Bill Lavender. Besides various full length publications of translations on the market, to be mentioned is her collection of poems, Opening and Closing Numbers, published by Moria Editions, 2005. Otoliths will be publishing Ghost Dance in 31 Movements, her thesis collection, later this year. A detailed CV can be found here.
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