Daniel Borzutzky Poems

Here the readers gather to watch the books die. They die suddenly, as if thrown from an airplane, or from spontaneous cardiac arrest. They live, and then suddenly they die,
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Hay golpes en la vida, tan fuertes    ...    Yo no sé!
— César Vallejo

They sniffed us out of the holes with the animals
they had programmed and there are blows in life so
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They took my body to the forest
They asked me to climb a ladder

I did not want to climb a ladder
But they forced me to climb the ladder
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"This is my last communiqué from the planet of the monsters."
Roberto Bolaño, Distant Star


When I watched the Barbaric Writers defecate on my
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There should be a writing of non-writing. Someday it will come.
A brief writing, without grammar, a writing of words alone.
Words without supporting grammar. Lost. Written, there.
And immediately left behind.
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