By Martin Camps:
DO YOU STILL WRITE POETRY?
as if it were a demise
of a cure
No one asks a doctor
are you still curing people?
I have not
been cured at all.
PERSISTENCE OF WATER
Poetry is not carried in vessels of mud.
I said: I will stop writing, one or two years,
Let poetry speak through other mouths.
I will forget. I will not be called a poet.
Now I will be a teacher, a laborer, an employee.
I will not listen to the inner anthill,
this noise of sheets waved by the wind.
But poetry finds its way,
Like water that filters through
a wall of plaster.
And to begins again,
as if from fear, to suffocate
the noise of the leaves.
Poetry does not spill like wine,
it is not exchanged for thirty silver coins,
it does not even hide like talents in the ground.
Poetry shatters your mouth.
T. REX AT THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES
Martin Camps has published three books of poetry in Spanish: Desierto Sol (Desert Sun, 2003), La invencion del mundo (The Invention of the World, 2008), and La extincion de los atardeceres (The Extintion of Twilight, 2009). Has is the recipient of two poetry prizes from the Institute of Culture of Mexico and an Honorable Mention in the Bi-National Poetry Prize Pellicer-Frost in 1999. His poems have been published in The Bitter Oleander (Pemmican Press), Alforja, and Tierra Adentro, among others. He answers all email at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Editor’s Note: Martin is one of the most innovative poets I know. I have seen his poems in video format, power point, as if an investment brochure, and laid out on the page so that form mirrors meaning. Sometimes political, often comedic, and always heartbreakingly good, Martin masterfully illuminates both his own experience and that of the Poet at large.