to get up in the morning
for the courage to put your eyes back in their sockets
and see the last light of summer filtering through the leaves
of the plants on the balcony
like a vine that leaps into the room and grabs onto
climbing upward in search of a heart.
Put aside just enough
To stick your nose near the chimney and sniff,
I say “just enough” because the scent of orange trees
no longer wafts there
and, if you insist on breathing in, a black soot
like an undesirable ointment that is old-age’s passing
insists on blooming within those nares
that some day, less than professional hands will snuff.
Save up so much more than you can imagine
by not wasting Super Glue along the neckline
after you figure out the exact place to stick the ears
that will open their frozen-stiff auricles, those sensors
of the sublime murmur letting you pass
above the empty noise that nothingness produces when it travels
the length and breadth of your body over and over again.
Set aside a goodly amount of what it takes
to place your mouth upon the wound made by
your voice trying to rise above your chin,
and bite down hard, so that your teeth sink firmly into
your bones. That final, precise task is theirs,
to leave the expression with smile’s escape,
a possible quick exit when things get bad.
© David Lago-Gonzalez, 2008
© translated by Kurt Findensein, 2008