Thursday, August 30, 2012

Gerardo Deniz


The shoe squeaks
when rubbed
excessively: it can't possibly shine more
-so it squeaks.
There was soap, oil, wax.
That old Oski cartoon:
a shoe shiner makes smoke come out
of his flannel rag: "Like this, or would you prefer them more toasted?"
The client's persistence is reasonable:
in the words of admirable Dr. Marañón
he who wears well-polished shoes, fucks a lot.
Not even Freud came up with something so sound.

tr. Mónica de la Torre

fr. Gerardo Deniz Poems
[Ditoria/Lost Roads Publishers, 2000]


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