after we said all that
those things said the day after-
each drop a blemish
heralding our own mistakes
blending them in the present
I tied your words as a keepsake but-
your right hand, slippery and wet
stigmatized my left
but quotation marks
that outline each us- inadequately
A POEM IS A MACHINE
Quoting William Carlos Williams, A poem is a machine.
A poem is a machine, a machine made of words
the complicated set of cathartic needs regulates its motion
the poet’s hand feeds
from a reservoir of
words, words, words – until
the whole stanza is soaked
and yet despite the abundance
certain of these manifold operations,
with the heat of emotion.
A POET’S FUSTRATION
The great poet Jacob said
a poet´s frustration
is that on both sides of the paper
there is nothing to write.
Mute monosyllabic fingers
current emulating voice
chained to the emotional vending machine
starved of a true smile
that breaks a line
at the corners.
María Castro Domínguez was born in London. She has written a book of poetry with Jacobo Valcárcel, “Four Hands” (A Cuatro Manos) and the prologue in Jacobo´s new poetry book “Escondite Mágico”. Also she has had poems published in “Retort”, “The Argotist” and “Blaze Vox” and many more.