Down The Pipe by Angye Gaona

by Steven McCabe

of this wall

I follow the way of the sternum,
I search for the origin of thirst,

new visionsome walls
 I go to the bottom of a pipe of silver walls,
solid due to time,

shadow court
moving when the flood,
when childhood, was freezing.

strange godstrange being
I collect the rootlets of thought.
I carry them on my eroded back
next to the wild oblivion falling from me.

spark 2mountain

They look out
from small caves,

newly

the signs of pain,
and fast elude the looks
and hide again in the skin of the pipe.

river wallopen eyes v
Inscribed on the walls
are the undecipherable coordinates
of the prehistoric ray
that formed my face.

shadow bluropen eyes v
It is a time of depths,
a time without syllable,

small shadow
when I am only a sound
in transit to fatigue.

torso shadowspark 2
I search for a spring
to bathe the question affixed on my history.

shadowed mothernewly
I search for a new-born life
and I find thirst.

plaster - shadowedstrange being

 I follow the way of the sternum.

shadowyof-this-wall2

Translated by Nicolás Suescún

Angye Gaona is a Colombian surrealist poet facing politically inspired legal difficulties.