Camila Valle

ped antics

I look out at the bodies
of water & the valleys—
I have no way of getting there, no
boat, no wheels of any
kind. You must envision
me CROSS ARMED
your voice carries but
I can’t
see even if I squint, can’t
tell how
many fingers you are
holding up

te dio us l a zy stub born
A N G R Y Y Y Y !
¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡

you tap
your foot, check your
watch, I am
halfway, counted

half way to where ?
¿ ¿ where way to
what half of what ? ? ?

thump

your dove carcass on my door
step I must not have
gotten the memo

like damn, at least send
a bitch some shoes !

nature morte

There is a hair, knotted
to the bottom of the blinds,
someone says it is just a thread
from the string that keeps it
all together, one on each side, one
in the middle, it hangs

There are the plants,
the plank
two hooks, twine,
my father’s face
beyond the open
-veined canal,
the millions dead, no angel
looking back, just
him peering out
from a little box:
what is it made of?

I knock on the frame, teeter
on the sill, the panes
clamped like a jaw but I am not
devoured, I am inside

You need an anchor,
my father’s voice,
I just want to twist,
bare hands, no, no,
it will fall, the pots will
break, the stems will
snap, ok, ok,

I go to the hardware store,
I put it all
up

It is snowing,
still life,
my hair
swaying like a noose.

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Camila Valle is a writer, editor, and translator.