Por Debra Leea Glasheen - Remnants

 

Lucía

63

Argentina

Date the poem was written

Translated from Spanish

 

                                               Remnants

                                               The world is burning on all four sides,

the Amazon burns,

the seas are polluted.

but you,

Stay home.

 

The virus that will kill you is already in the air, in people,

Don't hug, unhappy,

Stay at home.

 

To be good is to not think,

Stay at home.

 

Forget about the risk and your fury

and learn how to cook sourdough,

Forget the f---ing North Korean

who tested 20 atomic bombs, without fear,

and finally Justice is done,

Stay at home.

 

They are watching you,

controlling your sphincters,

your nerves, your contacts.,

They are taking care of you, don't you see?

They are washing away the sin of affection.,

Stay home, moron.

 

I know what I’m saying,

the powerful will punish you,

Stay there confined

 

Because I am the one who commands and who decides:

I order you so that your poor little life

lasts one more year or one year at least,

eating canned chickpea hummus,

or friggin noodles, donated,

buying sanitizer or bleach,

wearing protective masks

that do not protect worth a damn

if they are made with remnants

with poorly sewn cloth

with ridiculous saying

like a modern and teamed up Tuareg,

period.

 

Take off the mask of belonging,

Nobody wants to listen to you. Deaf ears,

They won't let you laugh. Face mask,

The laughter of the innocent is annoying,

an intolerable noise to dictatorship,

Stay home, unhappy.

 

Stay home while

you see the collective

take away your few material goods and your honor,

We will riot

like prisoners

to demand that God release us from

the virus, the heart attack, the asteroid,

but you,

Stay home.

 

Be obedient,

Maybe the opportunistic official,

faithful intermediary of your enclosure,

acknowledges your staying at home,

your illustrious diffusion of shame,

your hot and secret adultery,

because it is the time of Kings without crowns,

without sense, with blood if necessary,

yours, unhappy, and ours.

 

Play the story on TV,

made to entertain sleepwalkers

and apply martial law to your disgust,

I felt that you are a hero in misery,

Surely in the next Netflix show

they will pay homage to you without naming you.