Nicaraguan
b. 1958
I
Outside
is desert
keen to be river
there’s laughter I don’t listen to
folk walk around
whose hearing is blind
outside no hugs are given
there’s haste and abysses
bridges have gone missing
II
Outside
there are no dogs in the street
no tiny red turtles
not one lizard
basking in rooftop sun
III
Outside
is the moon whose breast
gapes with wounds
a plague of poets
fouls the silence
the tree says goodbye to its roots
and no one feels sad
art like crime
leaves its trail of clues
IV
Outside
there’s dirty linen
shamelessly displayed
trash is deep
outside it’s sickening
deep is the past
deep the future
there’s dried-up vomit
in the volcano’s crater
field on field
of lamentation
there’s Washington
Iraq
Somalia
Haiti
V
Outside
it’s dangerous
to break the spell
there are black verses
forever on everyone’s lips
outside I panic
the sweet names
are exhausted
VI
Outside
there’s no cosy bed
no sheet without stains
no eye pure in its seeing
no easy distances
no mother
no father
outside is a landscape
of forgotten letters
VII
Outside
a child
bursts waiting into tears
there are ulcers in the shadows
traffic in caprice
and other narcotics
books no one will read
outside is absence
VIII
Outside there’s reliable evidence
of angels who rain down coffee
there are tricksters
old photographs
clever flowers
that fade on cue
outside dreams hurt
and drums rumble with evil
cracks in the earth
are spreading
IX
Outside
the poor come back
to die in traps
there’s hunger and a
closed horizon
outside is long
narrow
dry
there’s dust
bones
and a welter of bodies
in a common sky
X
Outside
another outside
is under construction.
XI
Within
joy is here within
deep within
dig
and water gushes
within is Nicaragua.
Poets Corner 