SOME DOLLARS Poem by Washington Cucurto

Today I went to Lavalle Street to exchange some dollars.
Or, better said, "I went to exchange some dollars on Lavalle."
It could be the same sentence, but it isn't,
whenever dollars get in front of something,
they can't be equal.

How Lavalle street had changed!
No longer was the straight-edge guy
who would sunbathe in the Mac Donalds
on the 900 block of Avenida Florida all aflower.

I hate dollars and that's why I exchange them.
I don't want them with me at home,
feeding into my saver's fantasies that don't mean
a damn thing. Watching over my kids' sleep
by night and early mornings. Dollars are monsters-
a plague that's no good to have in your house.
This is why I exchange them!

Spring is coming soon, Ramoncito,
we'll have a few dollars-turned-pesos
to spend together on Lavalle Street.

I hadn't ever seen Lavalle so jammed with poor people and beggars, with pale tourists
sick with money.
No one loves money more than tourists - that's why I hate them, Ramoncito!

We'll eat an ice cream, we'll go to the pizzerias
and in the used bookstores we'll buy a best-seller from the past.
Ramoncito, Spring is at the door,
but you don't see it. You're in your mothers' belly.
Soon, as we know, your brothers and sisters will come out
and I remember you and I adore you, Ramon Vega!

We'll go pee in the bars:
The pathological liar anthropologist guy
with the gelled back hair, reading a Sur edition
in Alberto Girri's Cafe wasn't there anymore.
Ramoncito, this is Alberto Girri!
Ramón, this is Arturo Carrera drinking his gin and tonic!
The national poet gifts us a beautiful little book:
Telones zurcidos para títeres con hímen!