Thursday, July 19, 2007

Dear Ricardo Eliecer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto,

I like to say your full name, out loud, dork-style.

Oh, Pablo Neruda, so many of your poems have influenced my process of romanticisation it's difficult to single any one out of such a gorgeous lineup.

If it were possible, I would stalk you.

Lately I've come to some difficulty as a result (albeit indirect) of Sonnet XI. This is what I want.


Please see: Sonnet XI
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Damn you, Pablo Neruda.  Damn. You.
Can you help me out?


O ye romanticized,
suck it.

Yours Faithfully,
The D.L.



2 comments:

dr von drinkensnorten said...

yes. suck it, indeed.

love you!

dr von drinkensnorten said...

the monthly letter?