Toasting my funerals away, Spring 2006 by Gabriel Aresti Jr.

We are celebrating that spring came over and we did not even make a move
Move, he says to me, we need to keep moving
We’re moving, the ground is moving behind our feet
You know what I’m gonna do when I am older?
Nuclear weapons
I’m gonna do nuclear weapons
I’m gonna do nuclear weapons with geraniums
See those geraniums how they’re starting to blossom
This garden of concrete
I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna make nuclear weapons to celebrate
That spring is here.
Keep on moving.
We walk
We totter
We laugh
We stop in front of a fruit store.
Melons!
We’ll serve dessert in the living room, ladies and gentleman
You feel like trying it?
My living room is a desert
Blossoming desert of greening meadows apple trees
Oaks poplars birchs beeches holms pines are all invited to dine
You see them there up in the mountains
You see them?
Up there
Can you see them?
They glow like uranium
Geraniums and nuclear weapons.
Melon for dessert. This desert of concrete and pavement.
Daisies, dandelions, darnel, daddy was always telling us
The names
Always the names of things
You remember when we were kids?
You remember that?
Back then
When spring was dry and flat.
Keep moving, he says, and I lower my head to follow
The tracks in the sand of asphalt.
We better keep moving, we’re late.
We’re celebrating.
I know.
Spring came back.
Yeah.
And everything’s gonna be okey.
Sure.
We’re gonna make nuclear weapons.
You bet.
With geraniums.
See them, blossoming.
They blossom.
They do.
I miss him.
Me too.

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Gabriel Aresti Jr. is the pen name of Ángel Chaparro Sainz.   Ángel was born in Barakaldo, Basque Country, northeastern Spain around 1976. Currently, he is a professor of English at the University of the Basque Country where he has been teaching literature, poetry and history as well. Some of his short stories have been published in Deia newspaper and some other anthologies after being winners of contest such as Villa de Gordexola, Ciudad de Eibar or Ortzadar–all of them in the Basque Country.

Gabriel’s poem “Nospringland” won WIZ’s 2010 Spring Poetry Runoff Admin Award.   To see more of Gabriel’s poetry published previously on WIZ, go here, here, here, here, and here.

*non-contest submission*

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A couple of announcements

First, Torrey House Press, which recently sponsored a contest for nature-themed fiction focused on the Colorado Plateau, is sponsoring also a creative literary nonfiction contest.   Torrey House calls for nonfiction that shows their judges “the power of the Colorado Plateau.”   The deadline is May 21.   Essays can be long, up to 10,000 words.   Entry fee is $25.   You can find out more here.

Also, Wm Morris, who helped me start Wilderness Interface Zone, has interviewed frequent contributor to WIZ Ángel Chaparro Sainz over at WIZ’s sister site the Mormon Arts and Culture blog A Motley Vision.   Ángel recently completed a dissertation titled, “Contemporary Mormon Literature: Phyllis Barber’s Writing,” for which he received summa cum laude marks from University of the Basque Country (Universidad del País Vasco — Euskal Herriko Unibertsitatea) in Vitoria-Gasteiz, Spain.   Congratulations, Ángel, for finishing the dissertation, for its garnering high marks, and for the intriguing interview.   Seeing WIZ friends pop up in other places in print, on paper for in an electronic medium, is always delightful and cheering.   Well done, Ángel!

To read the interview, go here.

Every Step I Take by Gabriel Aresti Jr.

Five hours feeling happiness
I have been walking for five hours.
I got off the subway five hours ago.
I kept on walking with the city on my back
Streets becoming tracks
Tracks becoming old dry creeks
Creeks steep
Climbing to the top of one
Then making my way back
Five hours feeling happiness.
Five hours getting numb
Five hours leaving real life down there in the map
Five hours out of frame.
I have been walking for five hours.

Five minutes ago I realized I was coming back.
I began counting my steps.
I stopped humming songs.
I’m sweating no more.

Heavy.
I’m feeling heavy.
I’m crippled.
I stop.
My feet on the dirty ground.
I count to five.
I start crying.
Nobody is around.
I’m alone.
I’m listening to the empty brilliance of my own existence.
I’m feeling little.
I’m alone.
I can’t stop crying.
My bones are cracking down.
The wind keeps swaying me.
The track keeps waiting for me.
I count to five.
I stop crying.
Nobody is around.
I trigger my boots.

Five hours feeling happiness.

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For Gabriel’s bio and more of his poetry go here.

Mountalogue by Gabriel Aresti Jr.

I know this sounds stupid but but
I can’t help it
It is good for my health
My mental health
You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?

The range goes deep into the horizon
It’s been snowing for days
I’m cold comfortable cold
Nobody was coming on the track
It was only me
White to both my sides
White front
White back
Light
I keep following the track
I keep seeking the range.

You hear me I know that
And nobody is here around
It’s only me and you
And I know you’re just a mount
But I need to talk to the mounts
Mount, can you hear me?
You hear me.
Do you hear me?
I’m getting nuts, you mount,
I need you, you mount,
Mount,
Mount,
Mount.

I keep following the track
I keep seeking the range
I’m feeling cold comfortable cold
It hurts
I need it to hurt
I’m getting nuts
I need you mount
I need to escape, I need to fall
I need to disappear, I need your help.

Breathe.
I take my cell phone from my pocket
Mount? Are you there?
I won’t be able to get to you
Whiteness is blinding me
I feel good
Lost
Breathe.
I’m getting nuts.
Can you hear me, mount?

____________________________________________________________________

Gabriel Aresti Jr. is the pen name of Ángel Chaparro Sainz.   Ángel was born in Barakaldo, Basque Country, northeastern Spain around 1976. Currently, he is a professor of English at the University of the Basque Country where he has been teaching literature, poetry and history as well. Some of his short stories have been published in Deia newspaper and some other anthologies after being winners of contest such as Villa de Gordexola, Ciudad de Eibar or Ortzadar–all of them in the Basque Country.

To see more of Gabriel’s poetry published previously on WIZ, go here, here, here, here.