Read & relax<\/b><\/p>\n
hay una esquina en el desierto entre una duna y otra<\/span><\/p>\n se llama \u201cread & relax\u201d cuando me pierdo vuelvo: <\/p>\n Guitarrita<\/b><\/p>\n Pap\u00e1 Pap\u00e1 estoy bien s\u00ed salir a almorzar por avenida Brasil caminar por la Alameda a pata pel\u00e1 <\/p>\n Ziad<\/b><\/p>\n \u00e1ngel \u00e1rabe salido del Nilo sin frenos entre motos <\/p>\n Cairo<\/b><\/p>\n sentadita se me apareci\u00f3 una vieja y un viejo la vieja tapada de negro se sentaron en la banca delante de la m\u00eda la vieja se par\u00f3 a prender una vela quise llorar a mares pero me par\u00e9 y me fui <\/p>\n Mourning<\/b><\/p>\n quiero sentarme a llorar, Tatay en la biblioteca quiero acurrucarme, Tatay frente a la Bosca quiero sentarme en un escal\u00f3n de la escalera un escal\u00f3n zurdo but you died <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Read & relax hay una esquina en el desierto entre una duna y otra se llama \u201cread & relax\u201d la marqu\u00e9 con una estaca rosada con pintura del IKEA cuando me pierdo vuelvo: \u201cread & relax\u201d Guitarrita Pap\u00e1 echo de menos tu guitarrita Pap\u00e1 estoy bien s\u00ed pero echo de menos Chile tu guitarra […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":20322,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2888],"tags":[4304],"genre":[],"pretext":[],"section":[],"translator":[4264],"lal_author":[4263],"class_list":["post-20292","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poesia","tag-numero-24-es","translator-julian-david-banuelos-es","lal_author-cristalina-parra-es"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20292","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20292"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20292\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/20322"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20292"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20292"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20292"},{"taxonomy":"genre","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/genre?post=20292"},{"taxonomy":"pretext","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pretext?post=20292"},{"taxonomy":"section","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/section?post=20292"},{"taxonomy":"translator","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translator?post=20292"},{"taxonomy":"lal_author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/lal_author?post=20292"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/span>la marqu\u00e9 con una estaca rosada con pintura del IKEA<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>\u201cread & relax\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>echo de menos tu guitarrita<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>pero echo de menos Chile tu guitarra sobre todo<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>como cuando fuimos a ese restor\u00e1n vegano y nos encontramos con un primo
\n<\/span>de un amigo tuyo del liceo<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>que me pases a buscar al metro Santa Ana cerrar los ojos
\n<\/span>escuchar tu guitarra desde el segundo piso donde viv\u00eda la Nuri
\n<\/span>que s\u00e9 que tambi\u00e9n escucha<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>como los gritos de la tetera<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 camellos
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 ciegos
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0transe\u00fantes
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 hiyabs
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 caballos
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 burros
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 transe\u00fantes
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 camiones <\/span>
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 bicicletas<\/span>
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 pescadores <\/span>
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 jinetes
\n<\/span>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 transe\u00fantes<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>tratando de rezarle a Dios<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>con ojos azules como los del Barraco el viejo de terno gris y corbata roja
\ncomo me imagino a Roberto<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>el viejo se qued\u00f3 sentado<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>como un fantasma que nunca vieron una sombra en el pupitre<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>con olor a libros viejos y madera mojada<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>sentir mis pat\u00e9ticas l\u00e1grimas caer sobre mis piernas como
\nagujas<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>duro y helado
\n<\/span>como las baldosas del pasillo, Tatay<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/span>and took it all away so quickly
\n<\/span>the books the smell the fire<\/span><\/p>\nPoemas de <\/span>Tambaleos<\/span><\/i> (Grupo Planeta, 2020)<\/span><\/h5>\n
Foto: Cristalina Parra, poeta chilena.<\/span><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"