Cockleburitching

After the pangari, we rendezvous the old tight copper air

in the restored painting of Barb and Echinacea knightfair,

 

the same old stagnant scenery with hectares of mythemes

thrust into the stout canvas from  awry neglectfulness.

 

Freshly limewashed forests, ponds of beguiling laundry blue,

sprightly oats in market towns with wadding dozing due…

 

And the psychopomp horse, the obedient greyhound saliency

thicken the gouaches in nimble bestiaries of clemency.

 

Acclaimed strongholds have instigated to render patent

in the sultry Middle Ages, calcinated by being mostly absent…

 

And the opulence of the cytostatic curtains for estrangement

shred the disheartened past with blobs of emblazonment…

 

A gargalising guarantor of stormy love, slightly peeled off,

though isochromatic, of sully, clanking tournaments and toffs,

 

the radiant avenging knight accoutered with a golden porthole

still sheds sighings and laments on my brassy fireplace parole…

 

Thus wronged by pedigrees, landaus, wall upholsterings,

the chaste loneliness rushes on cade — a lance cockleburitching…

 

The century’s manège has plainly entered insolvency.

Fetch new pairs of bellows! Mend your pace to jurisprudency!

 

 

Laparoscopically

Haven’t you noticed ? While smiling heliocentrically

by the chubby short-necked flask of acetic acid, naturally,

connecting rod-crankshaft hopes grew vicious over mists

and seas, towards narrows formerly settled at love feasts,

and brides would float on the billow’s foam, matrices

of madonnas for the ball’s king-of-hearts caprices,

ever-vacillating destinies of clandestine slats,

white, rosy, terrycloth, fiorentine sins, rat-tats,

goslings of naïve porcelain would diligently swing

to sense telepathically the skies left to spinning

and prescient pelicans, fully-fledged, most parsimonious,

would calibrate the cord from beaks to mills, rather felonious,

frenetic common divers would keep splitting reduplication,

roseate spoonbills would venture, stirring cosmicization,

water dragons suffered to be propelled by fire

and whirlpools would yawn in elutriating satire.

Beware of the pomaded faults, behold the blind harpoons,

mind the trawlnet fairs, shun the lugubrious pontoons!

Rectify your fallible ark, your pirogue, your rings instead!

Frigates are blinded by enchantresses, so are the treads,

since each and every one in spongy effluvia, porous thoughts,

their necks raised heretically, their vigilant vitreous galiots,

would ply their oars in shows of strength, laparoscopically,

emulating in shipstem races, smirking hygroscopically.

Only the water wheels would bleed through nenuphars,

the piscatory hopes pour back into short-necked bottle sofars…

 

English version by Gabriela PACHIA