8.03 / March 2013

Poems from The Story of the Pocho

listen to these poems

Dirt roads and Coca-Cola          melting cucuruchus

The clean Curi Leúvu          amongst la Cordillera de Viento

Hiding the down-to-fuck grotto          Chos Malenses go crazy

Over Fernet Branca          I’m named Washington Sarlanger

I move in with the Cuellos          all nine of them

José puts together a bed          next to where his nephew sleeps

Grandma’s making me a poultice          hoja de llantén

Rumi discards the hours          The television sweats a little

Over nose implants in Tigre          marathons of Rambo y Rocky

Sifting through smoke          kids run outside

To form bombs from mud          One day cheats on two

A small daisy grows from my armpit          always in love

 

 

Laura siempre cuando bailas se te sube la tanga

y con lo rápido que sos vos te sacás tu tanga
vos te sacás la bombachita
y le das para abajo
pa’ abajo pa’ abajo pa’ abajo pa’ abajo

Front n back front n back front n back

But when I die NO cumbia cumbieros pibes rochos

negros
gauchines
gatos
floggers
boludos
güeritas
morochas
minas
pelotudos
huevones
chamulleros
tololos
asses
dickfacades
hipsters
raggamuffins
lovers
friends
streetlamps
sunflowers
avocados
Santa Clauses
tacos
with tripe
cow brains
tongue
pig skin
NO talking
horse along
the river
Rio Grande
tautology
and home of
snowcones
pickadillies NO

 

Lo que pasa es que me está zarpando

Entre el infinitivo “vacilar”
Verbos conyugales dejandome en bolas
Puro pompis bien eh eh
Dice Edu en Catallán
Deú si existeix es un fill de puta
I swear it on my heart

 

Motorcycles go vroooom vrooooom

 

My red hat goes ffffffffft

A knife goes shloop

Fighting with an extraterrestrial

Just him and me at noon

A green alien from a movie land

never making sense like el Chespirito

or all

Mexican television for that matter
Blood and pimples

antennas          calling cards

Umbro
cookies
gasoline

Wading in an anemic

pool of relation

Lingua franca

slicing the body

We’re passing

the checkpoint


Christopher Rey Pérez currently lives in Israel and Palestine, where he teaches at Al Quds-Bard Honors College and runs a poetry workshop at the Garden Library for Refugees and Migrant Workers. He wrote the poems from "The Story of the Pocho" while vagabonding through Argentina and Brazil.