Sirama Bajo has just published a new chapbook that everyone should probably check out. It’s called “S” as in Fisherman, which is, you know, a pretty fucking good title. I read the entire thing the other day two or three times in a row and instead of running my mouth about how much I liked it or why I liked it or trying to convince you why you should like it I’d rather just type out a few poems from the book for you to read here in order to hopefully convince you to pick up a copy (they’re only 3 bucks!) and figure out why you like it for yourself.
There are no poem titles, and some of the poems are really short, four or five lines short, which I really like. It feels like she typed things out in a mad meticulously inspired rush on her laptop and then threw it against the wall, smashing everything into pulp and haunted sea water and key bits of wire, in order to see what would stick.
And what sticks, really sticks. “S begins that way…”
I suggest you read her blog at www.siramabajo.blogspot.com and also contact her at www.myspace.com/theusualaccent to order a copy of her book.
until next week,
iloveyou,
Rob
a few poems from “S” as in Fisherman
The novelty that
is called S impermeates
thusly recalling
a gesticulation.
Articles, panties and
this sort,
of compromise.
Launching forth. Steady.
More towards the thing
Because it cannot be done
by all of us that seem to
sink in and out of breath
Ourselves
take their revenge on us,
on this particular day.
----------
If only I could eat
through the pads of my fingers…
you’d be found six days later and
there would be nothing left
----------
Inside a text there is blinking, one that
takes years. Perhaps it will take more.
Given that, the moments weigh on
despite all efforts. There is always a
sentence or two that we forget to make.
----------
Please do not leave a scent that could be
followed. The masculinity you spoke of is a
sequence of events. We delay in recognizing
the erotic possibilities of bone, nuzzle the
sand with improprieties, just to recall that it
happens. In the same way. Yet it always has
that surreal quality. The “sea” is still charged
with inevitable others, inside poems.
from the books About the Author:
Sirama Bajo is a poet, translator and performer from Nicaragua, via Puerto Rico. She is one half of twowaterpress and currently lives and works in Boulder, CO.
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