Thursday, January 23, 2014

Inverse Translation #7 & 8 after Mary Ruefle

Two Poems - inverse translations after Mary Ruefle
by Susan Calvillo


Fixed Think

I rejuvenate.
I hate no one.
I blame no one.
I blurt: they aren’t naked
trees swaddled by the rain.
There goes a horrid striped
blue legion—golly, conformity!
So always
I am placed up there.




Trash Island

Tomorrow I will stand on a car floating
in the ocean. A wise man will greet me
without ivory tusks.
He stills on a hill of plastic bottles.
He meditates under a tree of tires.
He isn’t ancient.
Normally I am stuffing myself
with vitamins and prune juice
because the junkyard’s daughter
can dance on top of anything.
None of us will ever get younger
but a spider might save us.
This is the “what is and what will be.”
The more we run from it the larger it gets.
I’m so young.
The sun is too weak for me.
There is nowhere left to sit.
I like the taste of air.
It carries a hint of fire.
A little stolen piece of the sun.
Air makes no shadow on the human eye.
It takes too much effort.
I spill my secrets
then stay to listen some more.
I get why you’re leaving.
I see why you’ve gone.
Let’s put on some socks
and brave what we’ve made.
This is all we have left.




This is an inverse translation of Mary Ruefle's "Broken Spoke" and "Literal."
Never heard of the Inverse Translation Project? Read about it here.
For Ruefle's original poem follow the link here


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