8.10.15

Apparently, Seattle has a new Civic poet! Here's their statement of purpose:

The new two-year Civic Poet post will serve as a cultural ambassador for Seattle's rich, multi-hued literary landscape and should represent Seattle's diverse cultural community. The Civic Poet program celebrates our history and commitment to the written and spoken word and the people who have given it such a place of honor in our city. The goal of the program is to celebrate Seattle's rich literary community, while investing the future of literary arts through community engagement.

They selected Claudia Castro Luna, a Salvadorean immigrant who fled her country due to civil war. More biographical information here.  Here is her blog (yeah, blogspot!), and I particularly like this entry on Pupusas and War.

And of course, the good stuff, the poems.




Wake 

by Claudia Castro Luna



Not for what was left behind 30 years later,
departure salty       still
Nor for what I wish to come
Lo que(se)rá será
But for the tight
Narrow
Abyss
Between the two
I live at a wake
 The lilies on my desk know this
Petals paper thin, crumpled 2 of 2
They breathe simultaneous beauty
And decay
Outside the rain
Burrows deep inside the earth
My grief works the same way
Tunnels dug each day
Alongside limbic system, cardiovascular highways, digestive tracts
Alongside breath
I       remain       split
And folks with eagle eyes
And others with doe eyes
Offer hands, skin, as a way of unearthing a truth.


Choking my vernacular

 by Claudia Castro Luna


The small orifice, wishing to be called a window, has two crossing bars to prevent escape. Its design: to limit. From this cavity behold blue hill fragments, exiled lips, blank pages. This landscape of place born, suffusing everything-- even the poorest thoughts. Grafted meanings choke my vernacular. The universe lodged between pupil and eyelid compromises vision. Sometimes, a chip of song makes it through the bars. A quiet whisper soft and true. Sometimes, a veces, un pedazo de canción, a chip of song, a roar to swear by. A mark to live with; by. Such is mine.


These were the two poems she read during a city council event in 2013. Her other works are surprisingly difficult to find. Does anyone have a chapbook title of hers they can recommend? Hopefully I can go to an event where she presents her work and get a better idea!