Savage Poem by Alex Salinas

Savage



I dreamt I was translating a poem by
Roberto Bolaño but that his words
Resisted my touch, my gaze,
Squirted hot mescal into my dark eyes
Of which my tongue refused to lick
The dripping drink due to its teetotaler master,
And in this way, every way imaginable,
My native tongue has resisted me.

Saturday, September 28, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: translation,dream,language,literature
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success