Lionel Kearns
Javier Raya

Electropoeta: la leyenda de Silvery McLune
Poemas de Lionel Kearns

Publicado por Centro de Cultura Digital

(noviembre 2015, México)

Centro de Cultura Digital

Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes

Licencia de Creative Commons
Electropoeta: la leyenda de Silvery McLune. Poemas de Lionel Kearns por Lionel Kearns y Javier Raya se encuentra bajo una licencia Creative Commons Atribución-NoComercial-Compartir Igual 4.0 Licencia Internacional.

©2015 Lionel Kearns

©2015 Javier Raya por traducción

Ximena Atristain por revisión

©2015 Libros Malaletra por diseño original

Electr0p0eta:
la leyenda de Silvery McLune

P0emas de Li0nel Kearns

Javier Raya - Traducción

Inglés

Español

The Birth of God/uniVerse

El nacimiento de dios/uniVerso

Inglés

Español

Electropoet

Roger used to be content sticking electrodes into his scalp in order to record his dreams directly on videotape which he played back later over closed circuit TV. But now that he’s grown ambitious Roger talks of broadcasting them live and in color and attaining total coverage and instantaneous response by plugging in his imagination to the national microwave network. It is doubtful however if the Board of Broadcast Governors will grant Roger a license at this early stage in the development of his medium so he’ll probably be forced to put his head into orbit and beam his images at us from beyond the twelve mile limit.

Electropoeta

Roger se conformaba con pegarse electrodos en el cráneo para grabar sus sueños directamente en cintas que proyectaría luego en el circuito cerrado de televisión. Pero ahora que se puso ambicioso, Roger habla de transmitirlos en vivo y a todo color en cobertura total y respuesta inmediata si consigue conectar su imaginación a la cadena nacional de microondas. Sin embargo, es poco probable que los Directores del Comité de Transmisiones le concedan una licencia a Roger en este punto tan temprano del desarrollo de su medio así que probablemente se vea forzado a poner su cabeza en órbita y dispararnos sus imágenes desde más allá del límite legal permitido.

Inglés

Español

Kinetic Poem

“The poem is a machine” said William Carlos Williams and so I’m building one

Or at least I’m having it built, because I want something big and impressive and automatic

You see, people will stand in front of it and insert money, dimes or quarters depending on the poem’s locus

Yes the whole thing will clank and hum and light up and issue a string of words on colored ticker-tape

Or maybe the customers will wear ear-phones and turn small knobs so the experience will be more audile-tactile tan old fashioned visual

In any case they’ll only get one line at a time

This being the most important feature of my design which is based on the principle that

In poetry “One perception must immediately and directly lead to a further perception”

And therefore the audience will be compelled to feed in coin after coin

Now I admit that this prototype model that you see on display is something of a compromise as it has a live poet concealed inside

But I assure you this crudity will eventually be eliminated

Because each machine is to be fully computerized

And so able to stand on its own two feet

Poema cinético

“El poema es una máquina” dijo William Carlos Williams, así que estoy construyendo una

O al menos he mandando hacer una, porque quiero algo grande, impresionante y automático

Verán, la gente va a pararse frente a ella y meterle dinero, billetes y monedas dependiendo del tipo de poema que quieran

Sí, toda ella va a rechinar y zumbar y brillar y emitir una serie de palabras en cinta adhesiva de colores

O puede que los clientes lleven audífonos y sintonicen unas perillas para que la experiencia sea más auditiva y táctil que visual, tan pasado de moda

En todo caso únicamente recibirán un verso a la vez

Esto constituye la diferencia más importante de mi diseño que está basado en el principio de que

En poesía “una percepción debe inmediata y directamente conducir hacia una percepción más profunda”

Y así el público se verá forzado a meter moneda tras moneda

Ahora bien admito que este prototipo que tenemos expuesto es apenas un adelanto pues como ven lleva disimulado en su interior un poeta vivo

Pero les aseguro que este artilugio será eliminado eventualmente

Porque cada máquina será completamente computarizada

Y plenamente capaz de ponerse de pie por sí misma.

Inglés

Español

The Answer

You will know the answer

when you see it, falling

out of the sky

on a windy day

splashing in a puddle or

perhaps sitting there quietly

on the table

staring at you from

between the mango-chutney

and the soya sauce

For the answer will turn up

in spite of the difficulties

and confusion of dead cats

rotting roses and discarded

automobile parts

perhaps one day slipping

unobtrusively into the room

to whisper to you in a voice

almost inaudible, or it may

stop you on the street

and instead of asking

for a match it

will mention the fact casually

as though merely making

polite conversation

Yes you will recognize

the answer when you meet it

and it will tell you that

everything is both

possible and impossible

at the same moment

La respuesta

Reconocerás la respuesta

cuando la veas caer

de los cielos

una tarde ventosa

chapoteando en los charcos o

tal vez sentada ahí sin hacer ruido

en la mesa

observándote entre

el chutney de mango

y la salsa de soya

la respuesta llegará

a pesar de las dificultades

y la confusión de gatos muertos

rosas podridas y autopartes

inservibles

puede que un día se deslice

por la habitación sin obstáculos

para susurrarte en una voz

apenas audible, o puede

que te tope en la calle

y en lugar de pedirte

fuego mencionará

el asunto de modo casual

como si estuviera simplemente

hablando del clima

Sí, vas a reconocer

la respuesta cuando la veas

y te dirá que

todo es a la vez

posible e imposible

al mismo tiempo.

Inglés

Español

Domesticity

She says Reginald are you listening to me

Reginald the man from the finance company

was around again Reginald he says they’re

going to take away the T.V. and Reginald

there’s the dentist Reginald and the kids

need clothes Reginald and remember you said

we could take a vacation this year Reginald you

promised Reginald you promised and all we get

is more bills Reginald and the car won’t even

pass the safety inspection Reginald and

Reginald you said we were going to get

a new car Reginald before we have any

more kids and here I am Reginald

seven months gone already Reginald and

Reginals there’s just no hope left anymore

so Reginald you know what we’re going to do

Reginald it’s the only thing there is now

Reginald it will solve everything Reginald

Reginald you’ll have to sell your soul

Domesticidad

Ella dice Reynaldo me estás escuchando

Reynaldo el hombre del banco

vino de nuevo Reynaldo dijo que van

a llevarse la tele y Reynaldo

es que el dentista Reynaldo y los niños

necesitan ropa Reynaldo y recuerda que dijiste

que iríamos de vacaciones este año Reynaldo tú

lo prometiste Reynaldo lo prometiste y todo

lo que obtenemos son más deudas Reynaldo y el auto

ni siquiera pasa la verificación Reynaldo y

Reynaldo dijiste que íbamos a conseguir

otro auto Reynaldo antes de encargar

más hijos y aquí estoy Reynaldo

ya pasaron siete meses Reynaldo y

Reynaldo es que ya no hay esperanza

así que Reynaldo sabes lo que debemos hacer

Reynaldo es lo único que podemos hacer

Reynaldo así lo arreglaremos todo Reynaldo

Reynaldo vas a tener que

vender tu alma.

Inglés

Español

Points of View

Faces of commuters

on the train

—expressionless

with drudgery

complacent in routine

and me overwhelmed

by the sadness of it

thinking them all

lost, damned

for choosing

that kind of life

Considering it again

later I realize that

perhaps it’s not them

but us

who are damned

for choosing

to be human

Puntos de vista

Los rostros de los pasajeros

en el metro

—sin expresión

fastidiados

complacientes en la rutina

y yo agobiado

por la tristeza de todo esto

pensándolos

perdidos, condenados

por elegir

ese tipo de vida

Pero al considerarlo bien

me di cuenta de que

tal vez no sean ellos

sino nosotros

los condenados

por haber elegido

ser humanos.

Inglés

Español

Participatory Poem

It has begun. Already the poets are working their cybernetic voodoo

Soon the thousand-foot television screens that have been set up in front of every house

Will light up automatically and display lifesize images of themselves

And God will be manifest as an enormous eye looking everywhere and in both directions

That is, from the inside out, and from the outside in, Simultaneously

It is difficult to speculate as to the developments after this stage

But some of the more imaginative amoung us believe that

The reader is asked to complete the poem himself in the space remaining on the page

Poema participativo

Ha comenzado. Los poetas ya están trabajando en su vudú cibernético

Pronto las pantallas de televisión de mil pies que fueron colocadas frente a cada hogar

Serán encendidas automáticamente y proyectarán imágenes de sí mismas en tamaño real

Y Dios se mostrará como un enorme ojo mirándolo todo en todas direcciones

Esto es, de adentro hacia afuera y de afuera hacia adentro simultáneamente

Es difícil especular sobre los progresos a partir de esta fase

Pero los más creativos entre nosotros aseguran que...

Se invita al lector a completar el poema por sí mismo en el espacio restante de la página

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him of

THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF
THE
WOMAN
WHO
REMINDED
HIM
OF

Inglés

Español

The Business

She wanted it all but

was too busy

having it

to get on

with the business

of getting it

He too wanted it all but

was to busy

getting on

with the business

of getting it

to have it

El embrollo

Ella quería todo pero

estaba muy ocupada

obteniéndolo

como para meterse

en el problema

de tenerlo

Él también quería todo pero

estaba muy ocupado

metiéndose

en el problema

de tenerlo

como para obtenerlo

Inglés

Español

Instructions

You hear the words click into place

As you slip them deliberately into the magazine

Then lifting the poem to your shoulder and closing one eye

You squint along the barrel to get things lined up

The dot at the end covering the target, and just visible through the V at the back

Calmness and precision. Squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it

And if he kicks his legs out stiff and falls flat

You know your aim is true

(So what if the methaphor’s too bloody cute? Goddamn it you know what I mean!)

Anyway, you must have seen them do it in the movies

Instrucciones

Vas a escuchar las palabras hacer clic al embonar

conforme las deslices dentro del cargador

luego apoyas el poema en tu hombro, y entornas un ojo

a medida que enfocas a lo largo del cañón

el puntito al final debe cubrir el blanco, no lo pierdas de vista en la uvé de la mirilla

calma y precisión. Desliza el gatillo, no lo aplastes

y cuando caiga como un costal con las piernas rígidas

sabrás que fue un buen tiro

(¿y qué si la metáfora es un poquito sangrienta? carajo, ¡ustedes entienden!)

seguramente habrán visto cómo lo hacen en las películas.

Inglés

Español

Communication

Comunicación

Inglés

Español

Personality

Hector de Saint-Denys Garneau used to

split up and walk down the street

beside himself, partners, so to speak,

though one would hardly say chums.

But with me there isn’t that consolation.

You see, it was years ago, and I'd just

staggered off the train after working

three days with no sleep, and as usual

I'd drifted all the way down

to the bottom of town. “Now listen,”

I said to myself, “you wait right here

outside this pawn shop. I'll be back

in a few minutes.” Then I walked away

and never returned. I don't know

how long he stayed there. I deliberately

put him out of mind and gradually

lost track of him completely. Of course

I've been back a few times recently

but there’s no sign of him now,

and even if he'd remained down there,

do you suppose I could recognize him

now? Do you believe he's up to his same

old tricks, or is he a new man?  I wonder

if he ever thinks about me?

Personalidad

Hector de Saint-Denys Garneau solía dividirse

y caminar por la calle al lado de sí mismo,

como socios, digamos,

aunque no precisamente como compadres.

Pero yo no tengo ese consuelo.

Sucedió hace años, les cuento: bajé

tambaleándome del tren luego de trabajar

tres días sin dormir, y como siempre

me encontré a mí mismo vagando

por el culo del pueblo.

“Escucha”, me dije,

“espérame aquí afuera

de esta casa de empeños.

Volveré en unos minutos.” Luego me di

media vuelta y no volví más. No sé

cuánto tiempo se habrá quedado ahí. Me

propuse sacarlo de mi cabeza y poco

a poco le perdí la pista por completo. Claro,

he vuelto un par de ocasiones desde entonces

pero no queda señal alguna de él,

aunque si anduviera todavía por ahí,

¿creen que sería capaz de reconocerlo?

¿Creen que todavía siga en las andadas

o ya es un hombre nuevo? Me pregunto

si alguna vez pensará en mí.

Inglés

Español

Expression

Smashing the wall with your fist

is something to be tranquilly recollected

or talked about years afterwards

drinking with your friends, laughing

smashing the wall with your fist

is absurd and anyway expensive

whether you have to pay the landlord

for the hole in the plaster

or if it was concrete, then

even when you have medical insurance

there’s the X-ray fee and the physio–theraphy

smashing the wall with your fist

is a crazy thing to do

but effective too, a way

to instantly change a situation

converting one kind of pain to another

pain you can cope with by groaning

and first-aid, the doctor may give you

a little something, someone is

trying to clean up the mess

smashing the wall with your fist

is better than smashing somebody’s face

is perhaps even better

than writing a poem about

smashing the wall with your fist.

Expresión

Azotar las paredes con el puño

es algo para recordar serenamente

o discutir en años venideros

bebiendo con amigos, entre risas

azotar las paredes con el puño

es absurdo y costoso en todo caso

porque tienes que pagarle a los dueños

el boquete en la mampostería

o si fuera concreto, entonces

aunque se haga cargo el seguro médico

llegan facturas de rayos X y fisioterapeuta

azotar las paredes con el puño

es una idiotez

pero a su modo efectiva, recurso

para cambiar la situación de inmediato

convertir un tipo de dolor en otro

dolor con el que podemos lidiar gimiendo

y con un kit de primeros auxilios, el médico

podría darte un extra de algo, alguien

tratará de limpiar este desastre

azotar las paredes con el puño

es mejor que pegarle a alguien en la cara

incluso mejor

que escribir un poema acerca

de azotar las paredes con el puño.

Inglés

Español

The Gap

The man walking with words in his head,

the woman talking with words in her mouth,

the child watching and crying and trying 

to make sense of shape and sensation and sound,

emerging and merging, vivid or vague,

the connections never complete, their selections

imperfect because they’re impatient to wait

for a choice, child and woman and man

crying and talking and walking their words,

attempting to stem the stream of impression, 

to reduce the gap that exists between 

the lights that light up their murky heads 

and the forms that form in front of their eyes.

But I’ll tell you now this trick

is not accomplished with mirrors or magic lenses,

but with a common though complex device

designed for the purpose of lying: language.

La brecha

El hombre camina con palabras en su cabeza,

la mujer habla con palabras en su boca,

el niño observa y llora y trata

de entender formas sensaciones sonidos,

surgiendo y mezclándose, vívidas o vagas,

las conexiones jamás completas, sus selecciones

imperfectas a causa de su impaciencia por esperar

una opción, niño y mujer y hombre

lloran y hablan y caminan con sus palabras,

tratando de contener las incontenibles impresiones,

de reducir la brecha que existe entre

el brillo que brilla en sus cabezas turbias

y las formas que se forman frente a sus ojos.

Pero voy a decirles algo este truco

no se logra con espejos ni lentes mágicos,

sino con el común aunque complejo dispositivo

diseñado con el solo propósito de mentir: el lenguaje.

Inglés

Español

Medium

Your innocence, my fatigue

poetry, the rain

proscribed subjects

objects too trivial

to waste a breath

Once I’d be filling up poems

with outrageous images

and impossible ideas

just to keep track of them

and let you know I’m here

Now I give you only

silence and blank paper

but this too

is a kind of message

Médium

Tu inocencia, mi cansancio

la poesía, la lluvia

temas proscritos

objetos demasiado triviales

para gastar aliento en ellos

Alguna vez llené poemas enteros

con extrañas imágenes

e ideas imposibles

solo para seguirles el rastro

y manifestarme frente a ti

Ahora te doy nada más

silencio y hojas blancas

que son también

a su manera mensajes.

Inglés

Español

Foreign Aid

Relaxing all day in this tropical atmosphere

glass in hand, a mosquito net and fans at night

sweating a bit but never exerting yourself

you think how easy it would be to make it permanent

to become the modern counterpart of the old white planter.

You’ve met a few of them, no pith helmets now but

they still observe the decencies, dressing for dinner

playing bridge down at the Yacht Club, having cocktails

with our new High Commissioner. Perhaps you could manage it

as an oil-field specialist or missile tracking technician

British or American, even a Canadian might fit in

as bank manager or some kind of Foreign Aid expert

living on a small portion of your Canadian salary

with four servants and two cars and a house high on the hill

with a sea breeze and white neighbours. What if the wife

flies to New York every few months and the cost

of educating the children is ridiculous, at least

you’re still enjoying good liquor and imported food

and in moments of privacy you relish the view

of the young servant on her knees scrubbing the floor

a wonderful creature really, strong, pretty and always cheerful.

Yes they’ve asked you to be godfather to her second child

and you’re so delighted you raise her wages to $40 a month

Oh it’s good to be good and still live the good life

and though your face grows redder and redder each year

(because after all a man would be mad to leave all this)

and though your body gets flabbier and you lose your hair

and your paunch sticks out above your khaki shorts, at least

the skin under your clothes seems to be turning even whiter

and you joke about this when you have guests visiting from home

and you’re pointing out the interesting features of the local scene

the quaint behavior, for example, of the native population

their inate laziness and lack of initiative, but they’re

a happy lot generally. And finally, after years and years

of this pleaseant life (and you’re still an amiable chap yourself)

quite suddenly, as you are slepping comfortably

(because of course your bedroom has air conditioning)

you open your eyes in total amazement

in time to meet death in the blackness

on the chopping blades of numberless machetes

Ayuda exterior

Despreocupado, todo el día en esta atmósfera tropical

vaso en mano, mosquitero y aire acondicionado por la noche

sudas un poquito de vez en cuando pero sin hacer esfuerzos

piensas qué fácil sería que fuera para siempre

convertirte en la versión moderna del viejo terrateniente blanco.

Habrás conocido algunos, ya no usan sombreros de safari

pero son caballeros decentes, de etiqueta en las cenas

jugando cartas en el club, bebiendo cocteles

con nuestro nuevo Alto Comisionado. Tal vez podrías colocarte

como especialista del campo petrolero o técnico rastreador de misiles

inglés o gringo, incluso un canadiense podría hacerse un hueco

en algún banco o como experto en alguna agencia de ayuda exterior

viviendo con una fracción de tu salario canadiense

con cuatro sirvientes y dos autos y una casa grande en la colina

frente a la brisa del mar y vecinos blancos. La esposa

puede volar a Nueva York de vez en cuando y el costo

de educar a los niños es ridículo, al menos

gozas de buen licor y comida importada

y en momentos de privacidad te deleitas contemplando

a la joven sirvienta que talla de rodillas las baldosas

una criatura realmente fantástica, bonita, maciza y siempre sonriente.

Sí, te pidieron ser padrino de su segundo hijo

y te alegraste tanto que subiste su salario a $40 dólares al mes

Oh es tan bueno ser bueno y poder darse la buena vida

y aunque tu cara se tueste más y más cada año

(ni modo, un hombre debe estar loco para dejar todo esto)

y aunque el cuerpo se te ponga flácido y pierdas el cabello

y tu barriga escurra por la cintura de tus khakis, parece

que la piel bajo tus ropas se pusiera más y más blanca

y bromeas al respecto cuando tienes huéspedes extranjeros

y les muestras todas las cosas interesantes de la escena local

el carácter pintoresco, por ejemplo, de la población nativa

su apatía innata y falta de iniciativa, pero son un pueblo

feliz en general. Y finalmente, luego de años y años

de esta vida sosegada (y todavía eres un tipo de buen ver)

de pronto, mientras duermes a pierna suelta

(porque naturalmente tu habitación cuenta con aire acondicionado)

abres los ojos en desconcierto absoluto

justo a tiempo para encontrar la muerte en la negrura

de los tajos afilados de innumerables machetes.

Inglés

Español

The Old Routine

I could tell you of events so complex

they would turn your eyeballs into pie crust,

clog your ears with seaweed, glue 

your nervous fingers into a sticky fist. 

But what of that now? I am here 

on this rickety porch where years ago

I would sit quietly writing you a poem.

Now I am doing it again, perhaps

writing the same poem. Everything 

grows and explodes and remains the same

as I jump out of my dying body just 

in time to see it again, the world.

La vieja rutina

Podría contarte de eventos tan complejos

que convertirían tus globos oculares en costra de pay,

taparían tus orejas de algas marinas, atascarían

tus nerviosos dedos en un puño pegajoso.

¿Pero qué importa eso? Estoy aquí

en este desvencijado porche donde años atrás

me senté tranquilamente a escribirte un poema.

Hoy lo hago de nuevo, probablemente

escribiendo el mismo poema. Todo

crece y explota y permanece igual

mientras escapo de mi cuerpo mortal justo

a tiempo para verlo de nuevo —el mundo.

Inglés

Español

Art

I’m always writing

except when I’m

committing suicide

or making love

Arte

Siempre estoy escribiendo

excepto cuando estoy

suicidándome

o haciendo el amor

Inglés

Español

Ventilation

Peter Paranoid tokes his grass

while sitting on his pot

the only place in the world

where he feels safe

toke toke toke… one hand poised ready

to fling exhibit A

into the toilet bowl

and flush it quick

at the least sound

or sign of disturbance

He has the bathroom door locked

and the vent-fan turned on full

to evacuate the tell-tale scent

for Peter Paranoid takes no chances

or so he believes

being unaware

that at this very moment

Detective Slippery Sam Snuff

at the head of his ten-man nark squad

is being led

by Rosebud the Roach-Headed Retriever

down through

the labyrinthine connections

of the building’s ventilation system

What will transpire?

Peter is stepping off the bathroom scales

having checked his weight

against his rapidly increasing height

and saying to his grass-headed image

in the mirror

that in actuality the lavatory

is a reasonably designed toking room

though perhaps a bit cramped

for a large gathering of heads

and just as Peter is considering the

the feasibility

of extending the far wall

and installing half a dozen more pots

the vent-fan suddenly cuts out

and the long thin hand

of Detective Slippery Sam Snuff

reaches stealthily through the louvres

to grasp Peter by the throat

“Not another toke, you criminal” says Sam

while Rosebud leaps down

to catch the roach in mid air

as Peter tries to throw it

into the toilet

During the brief struggle that ensues

Detective Slippery calls for his squad

to climb down and do their duty

and is surprised at their lack of response

for it seems that the thought

of making a violent arrest

in the seclusion of a private bathroom

has given all the men

massive erections

lodging them firmly

in the ventilation pipe

Nevertheless Detective Slippery Sam Snuff

acting in the manner recommennded

in his pocket manual

of basic police strategy

is kicking Peter Paranoid in the chest

and trying to trap

the expelled illegal air

in a special polyethaline bag

designed specifically for that purpose

for it seems that Rosebud

has swallowed all the other

tangible evidence

“Confound that greedy roach-head”

snorts Detective Slippery

“Next thing we know that mut

will be dropping acid

on police department time”

and at that moment

as Slippery

switches on the ceiling sun-lamp

in an attempt to simulate

a more orthodox interrogation scene

Peter jumps into the toilet bowl

and flushes himself down

along with Rosebud

his new found best friend

leaving the astounded detective

alone in the john

getting a sun-tan

and holding a bag

of Peter Paranoid’s bad breath

and although you may not believe it

perhaps for the first time

in his career

Slippery Sam Snuff

has begun to smile

for the fumes in the room

are having their effect

and even the men in pipe

are asking Sam

to turn on the vent fan

so they too can enjoy

a bit lot of a lift

Today Peter Paranoid

does all his toking

in the septic tank

thinking it’s the safest place possible

because the smoke

can’t get by

the vapour-locks in the drains

though there are other dangers down there

like the time Peter

tried to walk on the water

and almost drown

before Rosebud could retrieve him

And as for Detective Slippery Sam Snuff

he recovered his usual

policeman personality

on reaching the fresh air

and since that terrible experience

he now makes it a rule

to wear a gas-mask

in any similar situation

However

it is difficult to say exactly

what has become

of those brave members of the nark squad

who were caught in the pipe

for although the police department

denies the rumour

that they are still somewhere

in the ventilating system

the tenants in the building

are troubled

by a pervading a bad smell

and some of them

have a strange feeling

that they are being watched

even in the privacy of their bathrooms

Ventilación

Pedro Paranoico le da un jalón al gallo

sentado en el inodoro

el único lugar del mundo

en donde se siente seguro

fuma fuma fuma… con una mano lista

para tirar la prueba del delito

a la taza

y echarle agua rápidamente

al menor sonido

o señal de problemas

Tiene trabada la puerta del baño

y el ventilador en la máxima potencia

para evacuar el aroma delator

pues Pedro Paranoico no corre riesgos

o eso piensa

pues ignora

que en este preciso instante

el resbaloso detective Sam Snuff

a la cabeza del escuadrón de aguafiestas

le sigue la pista, guiado

por Rosebud el sabueso detector de bachas

a través de las conexiones laberintescas

del sistema de ventilación del edificio

¿Estará transpirando?

Pedro baja por las escaleras del baño

luego de comparar su peso

contra su rápidamente incrementada altura

y decirle a su imagen pacheca

en el espejo

que en estos días los cuartos de baño

son salones de pachequear bastante

decentes aunque tal vez algo estrechos

para una aglomeración de pachecos

y justo cuando Pedro consideraba

la viabilidad

de extender el muro del fondo

e instalar otra media docena de inodoros

el ventilador de pronto se detiene

y la mano larga y delgada

del resbaloso detective Sam Snuff

se extiende sigilosa a través de la ventila

hasta la garganta de Pedro

“Ni un jalón más, criminal” dice Sam

mientras Rosebud se lanza

para atrapar a medio vuelo la bacha

que Pedro trata de lanzar

al inodoro

Durante el breve forcejeo que sigue

el detective Snuff llama al resto de su equipo

para que bajen a rapel a terminar el trabajo

y se sorprende de la tardanza en la respuesta

pues parece que la idea

de realizar un arresto violento

en la privacidad de un baño doméstico

les ha provocado a todos

unas tremendas erecciones

deteniéndolos por el momento

en los conductos de ventilación

A pesar de ello el resbaloso detective Sam Snuff

procede según las recomendaciones

de su manual de estrategias policiacas

de bolsillo pateando

a Pedro Paranoico en el pecho

mientras trata de recoger

el aire ilegal que expele

en una bolsa especial de polietileno

diseñada especialmente para tal propósito

pues parece que Rosebud

se ha tragado el resto

de las evidencias tangibles

“Amarren bien a ese maldito marihuano”

refunfuña el resbaloso detective

“o cuando menos lo esperen

se va a estar metiendo ácido

a media comisaría de policía”

y en ese momento

mientras Snuff

enciende la lámpara solar del techo

intentando simular una escena

de interrogación más ortodoxa

Pedro tira de la cadena y se lanza

por el inodoro junto con Rosebud

su flamante nuevo mejor amigo

dejando al perplejo detective

solo como un perro

bronceándose bajo la lámpara

de interrogatorios y una bolsa

del apestoso aliento de Pedro en la mano

y aunque les parezca difícil de creer

el resbaloso Sam Snuff

esboza una sonrisa

probablemente por primera vez

en lo que va de su carrera

pues las volutas de humo

comienzan a hacer efecto

e incluso los tipos atorados

en las ventilas le piden a Sam

que encienda los ventiladores

para poder disfrutar

un poco del viaje

En estos días Pedro Paranoico

pachequea solamente

en el tanque séptico

pues piensa que es el lugar más seguro

ya que el humo se disipa

en el alcantarillado

aunque existen otros peligros allá abajo

como la vez que Pedro

trató de caminar sobre las aguas

y casi se ahoga

antes que Rosebud lo salvara

En lo que respecta al resbaloso detective Sam Snuff

recobró su acostumbrada personalidad policiaca

apenas tomó un poco de aire fresco

y desde aquella terrible experiencia

estableció como regla

usar una máscara antigás

en situaciones similares

Sin embargo

es difícil saber con exactitud

qué fue de aquellos valientes del escuadrón

de aguafiestas atrapados en las ventilas

pues aunque el departamento de policía

negara los rumores

de que aún están en alguna parte

del sistema de ventilación

los dueños del edificio

están preocupados

por el hedor persistente

y algunos de ellos

tienen la extraña sensación

de que están siendo observados

incluso en la privacidad de sus inodoros.

Inglés

Español

Community Development

The prisoners have every convenience

Light-weight aluminum-alloy chains

Foam-rubber linings for their manacles, even

The temperature of their cells thermostatically

Controlled. They have good nutritious food

And special hours for recreation. In fact it’s

Unknown for them to complain at all, and if you

Ask them they will tell you with the utmost

Sincerity, that life here is good, except

For the ocassional disturbance, but they

Can handle that too, like the time that man

Herman the troublemaker started acting up

Asking all sorts of questions and shouting

Those despicable slogans. But the prisoners

Fixed Herman alright, with the co-operation

Of the authorities, and he died there

Stapled to the lavatory wall, a figure

As ignominious as he was absurd, with his

Crazy “Declaration of Love and Liberation”

Twisted around his neck like a collar

Desarrollo comunitario

Los prisioneros cuentan con todas las comodidades

cadenas ligeras de aleación de aluminio

grilletes forrados de hule espuma, incluso

la temperatura de las celdas es controlada

termostáticamente. Tienen comida rica y nutritiva

y horas especiales de recreación. De hecho nunca

han tenido ninguna queja, y si quieres

preguntarles te dirán de todo

corazón que la vida es buena aquí, excepto

por algún altercado ocasional, pero pueden

manejarlos también, como la vez que ese tipo

Herman el buscapleitos se puso pesado

haciendo toda clase de preguntas y gritando

esos malditos slogans. Pero los prisioneros

le dieron a Herman una lección, con un poco de ayuda

de las autoridades, y murió ahí mismo

clavado contra las regaderas, su facha

vergonzosa y absurda, con su estúpida

“Declaración de Amor y Liberación”

retorcida en torno al cuello como un collar.

Inglés

Español

1963

Watching the ambiguous people turning away

from the anti-nuclear petitioners, 

I am filled with wordless imperative.

She and I are still living

in this house on the corner.

In these days of vapour trails and statistics

we raise a few flowers and children 

as fast as we can.

1963

Al mirar a los tibios rehuir

las peticiones anti-nucleares

me lleno de un imperativo silencioso.

Ella y yo vivimos aún

en esta casa de la esquina.

En estos días de cortinas de humo y estadística

cultivamos algunas flores y niños

tan rápido como podemos.

Inglés

Español

Roles

The difference is that when inspiration hits me I make into a poem

Like today when I’m thinking why not a beauty cream that

not only looks good and smells good but tastes good too

Wow can you imagine the appetizing dishes that could be prepared mmmmmmmmm… and all the delicious advertising copy

At last a chance to integrate the senses and appreciate woman in depth

Anyway I want you to make special note of it so that in times to come you may bear witness to the truth

That it was me, Lionel Kearns, poet, who first thought of it on July 26, 1968, while I was walking down the street on the way to the fish store

Because undoubtedly someone else will steal the idea, patent it, and make himself a pile

In fact, that’s what I mean–

That’s the difference

Roles

La diferencia está en que cuando me llega la inspiración la convierto en poema

Como hoy cuando pienso, por qué no, en una crema de belleza que no sólo se vea bien y huela bien sino que sepa bien también

Wow se imaginan los ricos platos que podrían prepararse mmmmmmmmm… y todos los deliciosos slogans

Por fin una oportunidad para integrar los sentidos y apreciar profundamente a la mujer

En todo caso quiero que pongan mucha atención para que en tiempos venideros sean testigos de la verdad

De que fue a mí, al poeta Lionel Kearns, a quien se le ocurrió primero el 26 de julio de 1968 mientras caminaba por la calle rumbo a la pescadería

Porque sin ninguna duda alguien más se robará la idea, la va a patentar y a forrarse de plata

De hecho, eso pretendo yo.

He ahí la diferencia

Inglés

Español

Recycled Poem

You know the story. The matches

are forbidden, so the little boy

takes the matches secretly

out of the house one afternoon

and does what he has dreamed of doing.

Secluded, where no one can see him,

he carefully selects a match, strikes it,

touching some grass which smokes then

goes out. The second time

there is a thin bright flame

under the wisp of smoke, the flame

running down a stalk of dry grass,

jumping to another, burning brighter,

jumping again, spreading to other

dried stalks. It smells like

dry grass burning. The boy

pulls together some more grass

and puts a few little twigs on top

to feed it. The ecstasy of success. 

It is burning. His own fire. He watches

it. You know the story: son

the whole hillside is on fire

and delight is turning to terror

that lasts for thirty years and finally

turns into a poem. And what

is this to you and what is it

to me and why do I say it is

about time? Because

I knew the boy.

I know the man.

I read the poem.

I saw the fire.

Poema reciclado

Ya conocen la historia. Los cerillos

están prohibidos, así que el muchachito

se los lleva en secreto

fuera de la casa una tarde

para hacer lo que ha soñado hacer.

Aislado, donde nadie pueda verlo,

toma con cuidado un cerillo, lo enciende,

acariciando el pasto que humea

y se apaga. La segunda vez

hay una flama delgada y brillante

bajo la voluta de humo, la flama

corre por los matojos de pasto seco,

saltando de uno al otro, cada vez más brillante,

saltando otra vez, se contagia

por los hierbajos. Huele

a pasto seco en llamas. El niño

junta un poco más de pasto

y echa ramitas por encima

para alimentarlo. El éxtasis del éxito.

Está encendido. Su propio fuego. Lo

observa. Ya conocen la historia: pronto

la colina entera está incendiándose

y el placer se convierte en terror

que dura treinta años para finalmente

convertirse en un poema. ¿Y qué

les importa a ustedes y qué me importa

a mí y por qué digo que ya venía

siendo tiempo? Porque

conocí al niño

conozco al hombre

leí el poema

he visto las llamas

Inglés

Español

Translator postit

In the picture, his gesture is that of a prophet: the eyes mildly creased by the sun behind the glasses; the left hand over the diaphragm, hiding a pair of buttons of the woolen overcoat; the right hand with an extended index, as if signaling something outside the frame. His eyes are looking ahead and downwards, heading towards the future steps (probably Kearns is in a sacred pilgrimage); it feels like the hand and the eyes are aiming to different points in space. A bandana clings his head: one can read "AN ON THE SILVERY". The head is framed by an aureole of maple leaves (a Canadian national icon), bestowing a wild look of a saint or a faun or a Tarot arcane or a clown. In the background there's a mountain and what seems to be a lake. In the original photograph, Kearns takes an oval object in his right hand, perhaps a piece of rubber, but for the publication of By The Light of the Silvery McLune: Media Parables, Poems, Signs, Gestures, And Other Assaults on the Interface (the Daylight Press, 1969), the rubber is superimposed by the poem "Birth of God / Universe" (1965).

"Birth of God / Universe" is the best known and analyzed poem of Lionel Kearns (British Columbia, 1937). According to the Prehistoric Digital Poetry by C.T. Funkhouser, this is "the earliest example of a code poem that directly pertains to computers."

The image (a 1 made of zeros, a 0 made out of ones) floats in the page as an arcane, both logical and magical at once —or even more, a poetic gesture that graphically solves a theological and scientific problem: God being born, the verse in which the twists and turns of the universe are encrypted.

But why does Kearns appear with "Birth of God / Universe" in the picture? We know that ​​overlapping the poem was Kearns' idea for the back cover of his book. The slight inclination of the poem gives certain naturalness, as if one —Kearns in this case— could go for a "casual" walk up the mountain carrying his poem along. However, the gesture has something ironic, yet reverential and tremendously serious in it. We do not know if the scene is set amid a big party (Kearns says so) or as a primordial image of a sage wandering in the mountains. The image always shows more than what it shows. One can think of the peace of the King of Pentacles: the poem instead of the golden token, the look in his face absorbed on something other than his emblem of power: the poet as an interface himself, as a vicar of his poem; the poem not as a weapon but as a link to an alternate reality, which Kearns accessed through gestures like this, rife with a comic seriousness. A photograph that doesn't forget that it's a photograph: not pretending to display a sudden appearance of a saint; like his poems, which always have a self-referential turn, some anagnorisis flash, a nod to the attentive reader. Poems that know they're poems, even when they're making love or committing suicide.

*

The first contact I had with Kearns' poems was through the website On Lionel Kearns, a project by Jim Andrews consisting of poems, speeches and correspondence —a variety of elements through which we can navigate some nodal points of the work of Kearns: digital poetry, concrete poetry and sound poetry, in addition to a film (Pour Négocier une Nouvelle Constitution Canadienne, directed by Gordon Payne), and insights on linguistics and teaching. On Lionel Kearns is an excellent introduction to the various facets of this member of the so-called "Vancouver Renaissance", as well as an extraordinary vehicle for dissemination of the various interests that cross the poetic pilgrimage of our author. This website was of great help to understand the type of translation that I wished to undertake in the case of Kearns: even though "Birth of God / Universe" is Kearns' trademark (metaphorical but also legally) style, this and other works lend themselves to experiments and reinterpretations, interventions and appropriations. Even an image, apparently "monolithic", as "Birth of God / Universe", is only a starting point for creative exploration.

In Andrews' version, "Birth of God / Universe" takes on a fractal composition: poured and rolled back on itself through an exponential, pyramidal pattern to its maximum visibility, from where it begins to fade returning to the primal source, which the image never really left. In other versions, the ones and zeros exchange brightness and opacity of its contours at high speed, creating a strobe effect. Furthermore, other versions and reworkings of Andrews in On Lionel Kearns consist of coding interventions through which the reader / user can modify the visual appearance of the texts through clicks or cursor movements. These versions obey a basic premise of the work of Kearns: distrusting the page as the one and only interface of the poem, as well as expanding the expressive possibilities of the word by any means at hand. In this sense, the page is a choice and a chance rather than the only vehicle for the poetic word. As Kearns said in an interview with Geoffrey Zamora, "poetry existed long before paper was available, and it is still a valid art form now that the screen has replaced the page as the most convenient place to objectify thought and explore ideas."

It would be a platitude to say that Kearns' poetry "explores ideas," only because the poem appears as a ​​confrontation of the idea with the discourse that validates its expression. It's not the poet who explores ideas (among other territories) through the poem, but it is the poem that explores itself. Is it a poem written in the bandana in that photograph probably taken between 1967 or 68, shortly after his return from Mexico? Esther Birney sewed the words "THE MAN ON THE SILVERY MCLUNE"; they were at a party at Earle Birney's, a poet Kearns considers his mentor. The name of the book —foundational in many aspects— comes from a word play of the name of theorist Marshall McLuhan, whose lectures Kearns attended. The reflection on the interface, which permeates the book from the title itself, allows texts to be addressed from several fronts. The poems with a visual predominance such as the above-mentioned "Birth of God" or "Infinity" acquire movement and plasticity through coding treatment, meanwhile the versions of texts presented here as 'Domesticity "or" Ventilation" have clearly a spoken word anchor. Poems like "Let's make love then talk…" or "The woman who reminded him..." also play with resources like loop, repetition or reversal, to the chain-like rhythm that releases the word of its meaning, or that gives new meaning to the word in each turnaround (a carousel changing harness at every turn). What I want to stress is that for Kearns no matter if it's a "conventional" poem made of verses (i.e., twists and turns) or a "graphic" or concrete poem, its effectiveness comes from a careful and always logical overloading —an assembly for disassembling the speeches from literary theory to advertising, often with a humorous note. The poem is presented as a mirror in which an ironic, sarcastic, incisive smile is reflected —not the author's smile (in any case, how do I know?), or the reader's, who may as well not laugh at all, but a smile of the poem itself fired to the page as a riddle, as a transparent mystery —more mysterious because of its clarity.

The versions I present here are not exempt of mistakes and sudden relocations of meaning. In each case I preferred to keep the conversational style and casual Kearns' tone, even at the cost of allowing some unpolished jokes or hopeless anachronisms, which I shall be the only one accountable for. All the poems come from By The Light of the Silvery McLune: Media Parables, Poems, Signs, Gestures, And Other Assaults on the Interface, except for "The Gap", "The Old Routine" "1963", "Recycled Poem" and "Infinity", which were taken from A Few Words Will Do (Talonbooks, 2007).

Besides the challenging and attentive eye of Ximena Atristain and Mónica Nepote, editors of this collection, Kearns' own support to suggest new versions of published texts or enlighten us about the meaning of some references were invaluable. We believe that Kearns' poetry can suggest interesting links between the aesthetics associated with the beatnik poetry of the United States, Brazilian concrete poetry and spoken word —for which our country has been fondly interested at least for the past ten years— while it builds bridges to readers from "page poetry" to an entirely digital interface. Interventions developed by Malaletra in ePub editing techniques can also be seen as a musical score executed with simple virtuosity, which can help us think about the poems not as unitary objects, always already finished, but as formations of meaning susceptible to be (re)created by other artists, and subject to evolution as living species.

Postit del traductor

En la foto aparece con una vaga expresión de profeta: los ojos entrecerrados por el sol, gafas metálicas; la mano izquierda sobre el diafragma, ocultando un par de botones del sobretodo de lana; la mano derecha con el índice extendido, como señalando algo fuera del cuadro. Los ojos miran hacia el frente y hacia abajo, en dirección a los pasos futuros (probablemente Kearns va caminando en procesión sagrada); da la sensación de que la mano y los ojos se dirigen a diferentes puntos del espacio. Una bandana le ciñe la frente: se alcanza a leer "AN ON THE SILVERY". La cabeza está enmarcada por un halo de hojas de maple (ícono nacional de Canadá), que le dan un aire agreste, de santo o de fauno o de arcano de Tarot o de payaso. Al fondo unas montañas y lo que parece ser un lago. En la foto original, Kearns lleva un objeto ovalado en la mano derecha, tal vez un trozo de caucho, pero a partir de la publicación de By The Light of the Silvery McLune: Media Parables, Poems, Signs, Gestures, And Other Assaults on the Interface (The Daylight Press, 1969), al caucho se le superpuso el poema "Birth of God/UniVerse".

"Birth of God/UniVerse" de 1965 es el poema más conocido y analizado de Lionel Kearns (Columbia Británica, 1937). Según la Prehistoric Digital Poetry de Chris Funkhouser, se trata "del ejemplo más temprano de un poema de código [code poetry] que concierne directamente a las computadoras".

La imagen (un 1 hecho de ceros, un 0 hecho de unos) flota en la página como un arcano, a la vez lógico y mágico —o mejor, un gesto poético que resuelve gráficamente un problema teológico y científico: el nacimiento de Dios, el verso único en que se cifran las idas y vueltas del universo.

¿Por qué Kearns aparece con "Birth of God/UniVerse" en la foto? Sabemos que la superposición fue idea de Kearns para la contraportada del libro. La leve inclinación del poema le da cierta naturalidad, como si uno —o al menos Kearns, al menos en la foto— pudiera salir a caminar por la montaña llevando en la mano su poema. Sin embargo, aunque irónico, el gesto tiene algo de reverencial, de tremendamente serio. No sabemos si la escena se desarrolla en medio de una algarabía (Kearns afirma que sí) o como un fotograma perdido del sabio en la montaña. La imagen siempre muestra más que lo que muestra. Uno puede pensar en la paz del Rey de Oros: el poema en lugar del disco dorado, la mirada absorta en algo ajeno a su emblema de poder: el poeta como interfaz, como vicario de su poema; el poema no como un arma sino como un vínculo con una realidad alterna, a la que Kearns tiene acceso a través de gestos como este, siempre plagados de una cómica seriedad. Una foto que no olvida que es una foto: que no pretende hacerse pasar por una aparición súbita de un santo; al igual que sus poemas, que siempre tienen una vuelta autorreferencial, un momento anagnorítico, un guiño para el lector atento. Poemas que se saben poemas, incluso cuando se suicidan o están haciendo el amor.

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El primer contacto que tuve con los poemas de Kearns fue a través de la página On Lionel Kearns, un proyecto de Jim Andrews, que consta de poemas, intervenciones y correspondencia, elementos a través de los cuales recorremos algunos puntos nodales del trabajo de Kearns: la poesía digital, concreta y sonora (Sound Poetry), además del cine (Pour Négocier une Nouvelle Constitution Canadienne, dirigida por Gordon Payne), la lingüística y la docencia. On Lionel Kearns es una excelente introducción a las distintas facetas de este miembro del así llamado "renacimiento de Vancouver", además de un extraordinario vehículo de difusión donde quedan representadas muchos de los intereses que atraviesan el peregrinaje poético de nuestro autor. La curaduría de Andrews fue de gran ayuda para comprender el tipo de traducción que deseaba emprender en el caso de Kearns: a pesar de que "Birth of God/UniVerse" es una marca registrada de Kearns (metafórica pero también legalmente), este y otros trabajos se prestan para experimentaciones y reinterpretaciones, para intervenciones y apropiaciones. Incluso una imagen en apariencia tan "monolítica" como "Birth of God/UniVerse" es sólo un punto de partida para nuevas exploraciones.

En la versión de Andrews, "Birth of God/UniVerse" adquiere una forma fractal: se vierte y revierte sobre sí misma a través de un patrón exponencial en forma de pirámide hasta alcanzar un máximo de visibilidad, a partir del cual comienza a desvanecerse, regresando a un origen del cual en realidad nunca salió. En otras versiones, los unos y los ceros intercambian la luminosidad y opacidad de sus contornos a gran velocidad, creando un efecto de estrobo. Otras versiones y reelaboraciones de Andrews en On Lionel Kearns consisten en intervenciones de código a través de las cuales el lector/usuario puede modificar el aspecto gráfico de los textos a través de clics o movimientos del cursor. Dichas versiones obedecen a una impronta básica del trabajo de Kearns: desconfiar de la interfaz-página como soporte último del poema, así como ampliar las posibilidades expresivas de la palabra por cualquier medio a mano. En este sentido, la página es una elección y una posibilidad, no el único vehículo de la palabra poética. Como dijo Kearns en entrevista con Geoffrey Zamora, "la poesía existió mucho tiempo antes de que tuviéramos papel, y aún es una forma válida de arte ahora que la pantalla ha reemplazado a la página como el lugar más conveniente para objetificar el pensamiento y explorar ideas."

Sería una obviedad decir que la poesía de Kearns "explora ideas" solamente, pues el poema aparece como la confrontación de la idea con el discurso que valida su expresión. No es el poeta quien explora ideas (entre otros territorios) a través del poema, sino que es el poema quien se explora a sí mismo. ¿Es un poema lo que podemos leer en la bandana que lleva Kearns en aquella foto tomada probablemente en 1967 o 68, poco después de su regreso de México? Esther Birney cosió en su telar las palabras "THE MAN ON THE SILVERY MCLUNE". Estaban en una fiesta en casa de Earle Birney, poeta canadiense a quien Kearns considera su mentor. El nombre de ese libro —fundacional en muchos aspectos— proviene de un juego con el nombre del teórico Marshall McLuhan, a cuyas clases llegó a asistir Kearns. La reflexión sobre la interfaz, que permea el libro desde el título mismo, le da a los textos la posibilidad de ser encarados desde distintos frentes. Los poemas donde predomina lo visual como el mencionado "Birth of God" o "Infinidad" adquieren movimiento y plasticidad a través del tratamiento de código, mientras que las versiones que aquí presento de textos como "Domesticidad" o "Ventilación" tienen un anclaje más claro en el spoken word. Poemas como "Soy timido…" o "la mujer que le recordaba…" juegan también al loop, a la repetición o reversión, al encadenamiento que libera a la palabra de su sentido, o que dota de nuevos sentidos a la palabra en cada vuelta (carrusel que cambia de cuadrilla en cada giro). Lo que trato de recalcar es que para Kearns no importa si se trata de un poema "convencional" hecho de versos (es decir, de vueltas y revueltas) o de un poema "gráfico" o concreto, etc.: su efectividad proviene de una sobrecarga cuidadosa, siempre lógica —montaje que desmonta los discursos de la teoría literaria, de la publicidad, y que siempre tiene un pie en el humor. El poema se presenta, así, como un espejo donde se refleja una sonrisa irónica, sarcástica, incisiva —no es la sonrisa del autor (en todo caso, ¿cómo saberlo?), ni la del lector, que bien puede no reír, sino la sonrisa del poema mismo que se lanza a la página como un acertijo, como un misterio transparente, misterioso a fuerza de claridad.

Las versiones aquí presentadas no están exentas —lo repito— de errores y traslados bruscos de sentido. En cada caso preferí conservar el tono conversacional y desenfadado del estilo de Kearns, incluso a costa de deslavar ciertos chistes locales o anacronismos irremediables, por los que soy enteramente responsable. Todos los poemas provienen de By The Light of the Silvery McLune: Media Parables, Poems, Signs, Gestures, And Other Assaults on the Interface (The Daylight Press, 1969), con excepción de "La brecha", "La vieja rutina", "1963", "Poema reciclado" e "Infinidad" que tomamos de A Few Words Will Do (Talonbooks, 2007).

Además del ojo atento e inclemente de Ximena Atristain y Mónica Nepote, editoras de esta colección, la ayuda del propio Kearns para sugerir versiones nuevas de ciertos textos o iluminarnos sobre el sentido de algunas referencias fueron de inestimable ayuda. Creemos que la poesía de Kearns puede sugerirr vínculos interesantes entre la estética asociada a la poesía beatnik de los Estados Unidos, la poesía concreta brasileña y el spoken word que en nuestro país ha tenido un auge inusitado desde hace al menos diez años, a la vez que tender puentes para los lectores de poesía "de página" en una interfaz enteramente digital. Las intervenciones desarrolladas por Malaletra en la edición en ePub pueden verse también como ejecuciones técnicas de una partitura de sencilla virtuosidad, lo que puede ayudarnos a pensar los poemas no como objetos unitarios y acabados, sino como formaciones de sentido susceptibles a ser (re)creadas por otros artistas, y sujetas a la evolución como las especies vivas.

Inglés

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Lionel Kearns

(Nelson, British Columbia, 1937) Poet and linguist, author of books such as By the Light of the Silvery Mclune (1969), Practising Up to Be Human (1978), Ignoring the Bomb (1982) y Convergences (1984). He lives in vancouver where he writes, plays hockey and takes his grandchildren at the Grandview Park.

Javier Raya

(1985) Ninja wordsman. He has published the books El libro de Pixie, Por los rasgos una bayoneta, Ordalía and La balada de Mr. P Mosh o siete sonidos para peluquerías. Lives in Mexico City, writes at Cuadernoderaya.blogspot.mx, in the Twitter account @javier_raya, and as a regular staff member of PijamaSurf.com

Lionel Kearns

(Nelson, Columbia Británica, 1937) Poeta y lingüísta, autor de poemarios como By the Light of the Silvery Mclune (1969), Practising Up to Be Human (1978), Ignoring the Bomb (1982) y Convergences (1984). Vive en Vancouver donde continúa escribiendo, jugando hockey y llevando a sus nietos al parque Grandview.

Javier Raya

(1985) Palabrero ninja. Ha publicado los poemarios El libro de Pixie, Por los rasgos una bayoneta, Ordalía y La balada de Mr. P Mosh o siete sonidos para peluquerías. Vive en la ciudad de México, escribe en Cuadernoderaya.blogspot.mx, en la cuenta de Twitter @javier_raya, y es colaborador regular de PijamaSurf.com.

La formación de este libro estuvo a cargo de
Publicaciones Malaletra Internacional
y se terminó en diciembre del 2015.