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| UNIDAD
Pablo Neruda
HAY algo denso, unido, sentado en el fondo,
repitiendo su número, su señal idéntica.
Cómo se nota que las piedras han tocado el tiempo,
en su fina materia hay olor a edad,
y el agua que trae el mar, de sal y sueño.
Me rodea una misma cosa, un solo movimiento:
el peso del mineral, la luz de la miel,
se pegan al sonido de la palabra noche:
la tinta del trigo, del marfil, del llanto,
envejecidas, desteñidas, uniformes,
se unen en torno a mí como paredes.
Trabajo sordamente, girando sobre mí mismo,
como el cuervo sobre la muerte, el cuervo de luto.
Pienso, aislado en lo extremo de las estaciones,
central, rodeado de geografía silenciosa:
una temperatura parcial cae del cielo,
un extremo imperio de confusas unidades
se reúne rodeándome.
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| The Journey
We went
trying to make the road bend,
curve without rapids
Full of superstitions
I was caught in the same curious dance
going deeper and deeper
trying to reach a point
a line or border
I would not have known how to make
with my brain asleep but my eyes wide
with all the weight
And bloodshed:
they battled in midair
clashed like shields and armor plate
meant to deafen
and even blind
and Jesus began to save
(Save me from what? or FOR what?)
And murder
another life
deliverance
And liquor
to bring up my stomach,
take off my costume:
an evasive, confident and secret craziness,
what your title says you do
and not believing it for a minute
And hookworm
touched the very bottom of my stomach
the blood heaved
not so much shot as catapulted
I had the feeling
I would never wake up
And ghosts
like someone whose energies had been taken
by some other thing then old age,
unkillableness,
moved as an unmusical person is moved
when he sees that the music is meant
And early deaths:
you'd die early
and you'd suffer
but you'd be in touch
your own life and values to make
I get the feeling that I can't wait | | |
| Finger Food (the very beginning)
by me
We were hungry. The laxatives had kicked in at Day One-and-a-Half
to empty our guts. In case they hadn't quite done the trick,
toxins oozed into our stomachs causing them to turn over somewhere
between Days Two and Four, depending on the person. I spent the
fourth morning bowing to a porcelain throne. What spewed forth
was yellow with green phlegm--pure bile and water--the last of our
insides shot out. And so we were empty.
I took it harder than most. It wasn't even a sharp kind of
hunger. There weren't pangs. It was more of a metaphorical
hunger. It was a yearning.
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| Hahahahahahaha!
I win!
The tradition of finishing huge assignments hours (or less) before
they're due lives on. Yay for completing midterms and happy music.
And What!?!
In your face, world! In your face!
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| All there really is to say is wow. Check out the website tomorrow afternoon/evening for an update. www.georgetownlivingwage.org
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