I'd like to read this one.
And I promise I will change the mood.
But I would like to read this one, "Plenos Poderes."
I've been-- there is a series of poems in this book that
are written after Pablo Neruda, a Chilean writer who's
been a wonderful poet, and I have always loved.
So there's a series of poems-- he
has these wonderful exuberant love poems, as well
as his political work.
So there are these series of poems
that are written in the style of Pablo Neruda.
And this is one of them, "Plenos Poderes"--
which takes off from a title of one of his poems--
one of his books--
Plenos Poderes, which has been translated, fully empowered,
but it's more like plenty power--
full powers-- "After "Neruda."
And this is a poem that's really about losing love.
And the first time this was published,
it was published in a collection of poems
on grief, particularly for people who had died of AIDS,
and dealing with the grief process.
And I didn't intend it to be published in that context.
But I was very glad to see it published in that context,
because it fit this sort of longing for love,
and the strength of love.
"Plenos Poderes, After Neruda."
"Does it fill you with power--
with water, with stone--
to create a want so ceaseless?
Hear the creaking of moon as she reaches to sea,
hair full of shimmering jellies and diatoms
lost in the craters.
There's a skull and crossbones in the fix
of the rip, in the breakers incessant breaking,
of cradle and rock.
All night, all tide, solstice to solstice,
she bends and bears the bending of water.
As you filled me with child, so I
felt I would give birth to it.
What do I do with the key to this city, this door to you
that never opened fully?
Do I change my life into yours?
Do I do what the women dare?
Do I abort it, now that the Earth rust's
with the weight of it?
Do I love you less?
Do I spit in the moon's single eye?
Do I survive?
Do I?
Plenos poderes and singing."