- [INAUDIBLE] faculty of the University of Arizona Poetry
Center, Gail Browne, Frances Sjoberg and [INAUDIBLE].
And I would also like to thank Kore Press and [INAUDIBLE].
And I would finally like to express my deepest gratitude
to Wendy Burk and once again to Frances Sjoberg
for working enthusiastically on the presentation of this chapbook.
And I would like to thank all those who came today.
I'm going to start with a poem called Felis catus.
It's a poem about death and being
comforted by a cat.
It's called Felis catus, and it's in homage to S.
Es la hora frutal y felina, pelage de ámbar y cuarzo.
Es la hora del durazno bajo el frío,
escarcha de jugo en la gruta del vino.
Es la hora del limón tras el mimbre,
tejidos de corona en la paja.
Es la hora tibia del hábito, lomo desierto de Sol y columna
derruida.
Es la hora del corazón franqueado por la aguja,
ojos dormidos en la cuna de la sombra.
Es la hora del aire vencido, garra exacta de la luz en el
borde de un espacio.
Es la hora gato, mansa y diestra.
Nariz cubierta de tela y uña clavada en el fieltro.
Es la hora fruta, flor y carne.
Heliotropo al viento y ceniza reposando.
Es la hora felina trashumante, barda santiguada y fantasma.
Es la hora del polvo reunido, reliquia de la fruta y de los
huesos.
Es la hora del rumbo de la tierra,
gato y tiempo calcados en la caída de la roca.
Es la hora difusa, sin brocal ni memoria y vino siempre la
muerte, gato, vino.
- Felis Catus.
Can you hear me?
It is the fruit and feline hour, pelt of amber and quartz.
It is the hour of the peach tree in the cold, juice
frosted on the grotto of the window pane.
It is the hour of the lime behind the wicker.
It is the warm hour of habit, the sun's bleak back,
and the column destroyed.
It is the hour of the heart pierced by a needle, eyes
asleep in the cradle of shadow.
It is the hour of defeated air, light's exact paw
on the edge of space.
It is the cat hour, tame and skillful,
nose covered in cloth.
Excuse me-- nose covered with cloth and claws caught in felt.
It is the hour of fruit, flower, and flesh.
Heliotrope in the wind and ashes in repose.
It is the feline hour, migratory, wall blessed
and ghost.
it is the hour of dust reunited, relic of fruit and bones.
It is the hour of the earth's course, cat and time
traced in the falling of the rock.
It is the diffuse hour without rim or memories,
and death was always coming, cat, it was coming.