(translated from Portuguese) 31 December 2020 Unborn moon of winter: There is no more I to summon you. I’ve passed through the oceanic waters of the continent And see you now – it is summer. The beings who roam and vest Phrases and verbs and ecstasys Live, moon! Live! Like me. The
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Spleen
The spring and I are strangers now, extending hungry glances through fat green stems and the blush of fallen berries— those beloved friends of the pilgrim’s foot. More and more I slip into the soil to read the pages of rock. Retreating to the muddy infinite, I spy the fleshy leviathan, earthworm tonguing a
Sin Miedo, Without Fear
(translated from Spanish) From far away I hear their songs and their screams The ground rumbles Charged by restless spirits Tired of making themselves small To fit into lines drawn to cage us We all hear it from birth and learn it as children The life lessons all women must know calladita te ves más
Why Did You Twist Me Up?
Was the Moon A witness Or an accomplice? I can’t tell But, Both times It was there Sleepless Swollen eye An overripe orange That I mistook For the sun Why did you twist me up? I ask the staring eye Who, Clutching every reply Doubts to confide Even a hiccup Hollow Pulp-less fruit With
That Moment
Film tapes turned to ashes Bare feet on the shore, unable to walk The tied ropes that suffocate me Holding you tight while you slip off My naked ego goes to its knees Carrying the stale bitterness of crying too much Will I wake up from this nightmare again? Will I remove all the blades
Foreign Plants Grow Between My Toes
I couldn’t name a sparrow from a line-up of birds nor tell you what the ants dancing in my summer yard do after dark or before it or during I couldn’t confess which flowers bloom forth from my soul today—I’d have to look them up. Most of the Romantics are lost on me;
“House Arrest” and “This is a Poem”- Two Poems by Sam Zamrik
House Arrest I was once a prisoner. Prisoners are often kept behind bars and gates, under lock and key, but not me. I was a prisoner behind a screen. A window screen, a wire mesh stained with blood and the putrid flesh of a hundred flies. My keeper kept me under, complacent. My keeper kept
On drift: The Drifting Text-Based Performance Series
cherub henry and Sam Harper moved to Berlin from New Zealand via London almost eight years ago. They now both study under Hito Steyerl at Berlin’s University of the Arts. cherub also works as a sex worker. In the summer of 2019, Sam and cherub founded a series of text-based performances called drift. drift is