{"id":21607,"date":"2023-03-08T13:02:32","date_gmt":"2023-03-08T19:02:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/?p=21607"},"modified":"2023-05-21T17:25:48","modified_gmt":"2023-05-21T23:25:48","slug":"fragmentos-de-balada-de-joey-stefano","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/2023\/03\/fragmentos-de-balada-de-joey-stefano\/","title":{"rendered":"Fragmentos de Balada de Joey Stefano"},"content":{"rendered":"

Tocaste
\n<\/i><\/b>la puerta de la alcoba<\/span>
\n<\/span>con paso de ojos pardos<\/span>
\n<\/span>con ruido de ojos claros.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sigiloso y penetrante<\/span>
\n<\/span>el cuerpo liso de la muerte<\/span>
\n<\/span>abri\u00f3 sus cauces.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sus baladas, sus l\u00edquidos espesos<\/span>
\n<\/span>y blancuzcos.<\/span>
\n<\/span>Su cuna de hoy, su crisol<\/span>
\n<\/span>su despedida.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tocaste, Nick, Joey<\/span>
\n<\/span>el <\/span>siempreotro<\/span><\/i>
\n<\/span>tu pan duro, tu miga oscura.<\/span><\/p>\n

Que es sombra y es espalda<\/span>
\n<\/span>que es espejo el otro en el deseo<\/span>
\n<\/span>que es hambre y sue\u00f1o, espasmo<\/span>
\n<\/span>y cuando vive muere y muere cuando vive.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tocaste
\n<\/i><\/b>derrumbado en una tarde sin \u00e1ngeles<\/span>
\n<\/span>el cuerpo tantas veces<\/span>
\n<\/span>el cuerpo el desvestido el desasido<\/span>
\n<\/span>en un hotel de paso<\/span>
\n<\/span>el detenido<\/span>
\n<\/span>el que no cesa el paso<\/span>
\n<\/span>en los pastos incendiados<\/span>
\n<\/span>de m\u00e1rmoles erectos<\/span>
\n<\/span>de aguas negras<\/span>
\n<\/span>transparentes en tu boca<\/span>
\n<\/span>en tu deseo.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tocaste<\/i><\/b>
\n<\/span>tu voz cuando cambiaba<\/span>
\n<\/span>tu mudanza de silencios<\/span>
\n<\/span>tu muda infancia<\/span>
\n<\/span>solo frutas secas, solo c\u00e1scaras<\/span>
\n<\/span>de pan<\/span>
\n<\/span>almohadas solo<\/span>
\n<\/span>solo por lujo una franela<\/span>
\n<\/span>y una cascada blanca en tu garganta<\/span>
\n<\/span>para ocultar gemidos.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

No s\u00e9\u00a0<\/i><\/b>
\n<\/span>si soy mi cuerpo<\/span>
\n<\/span>u otro<\/span>
\n<\/span>no s\u00e9 si tengo<\/span>
\n<\/span>la m\u00fasica contada de mis d\u00edas<\/span>
\n<\/span>y al alba vuelvo<\/span>
\n<\/span>con el amor vac\u00edo.<\/span><\/p>\n

Este af\u00e1n de mirar es m\u00e1s que m\u00edo.<\/span><\/p>\n

No s\u00e9 si tengo<\/span>
\n<\/span>en mis libros olvidados<\/span>
\n<\/span>animales, ins\u00f3litos insectos<\/span>
\n<\/span>cuyo polvo menudo<\/span>
\n<\/span>respiro en las ma\u00f1anas<\/span>
\n<\/span>desvar\u00edo.<\/span><\/p>\n

Este af\u00e1n de mirar es m\u00e1s que m\u00edo.<\/span><\/p>\n

Los pastores de Virgilio<\/span>
\n<\/span>son Virgilio<\/span>
\n<\/span>los pastores de Poussin<\/span>
\n<\/span>Poussin el s\u00e1tiro<\/span>
\n<\/span>su miembro erecto<\/span>
\n<\/span>es Claudio y sus pastores<\/span>
\n<\/span>de amor desatendido<\/span>
\n<\/span>lo que ondea\u00a0<\/span>
\n<\/span>en las velas de los barcos<\/span>
\n<\/span>de mi ausencia<\/span>
\n<\/span>henchidas.<\/span><\/p>\n

Este af\u00e1n de mirar es m\u00e1s que m\u00edo.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Cu\u00e1ntas noches<\/i><\/b>
\n<\/span>has dormido<\/span>
\n<\/span>cu\u00e1ntos sue\u00f1os<\/span>
\n<\/span>en el sue\u00f1o<\/span>
\n<\/span>tu cuerpo<\/span>
\n<\/span>za\u00edno o albo<\/span>
\n<\/span>ha reposado<\/span>
\n<\/span>en otro cuerpo<\/span>
\n<\/span>en otras piedras<\/span>
\n<\/span>como tus alegres armaduras<\/span>
\n<\/span>que no duelen<\/span>
\n<\/span>ni son pasto<\/span>
\n<\/span>de hormigas, diurnos animales<\/span>
\n<\/span>inasibles.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yo veo entre mangas<\/span>
\n<\/span>azuladas<\/span>
\n<\/span>cerca al \u00e1rbol<\/span>
\n<\/span>testicular de ronco g\u00e9nero<\/span>
\n<\/span>el apuro de tu mano<\/span>
\n<\/span>cadenciosa<\/span>
\n<\/span>que tiembla con el d\u00eda<\/span>
\n<\/span>como si fuera<\/span>
\n<\/span>el \u00faltimo calor<\/span>
\n<\/span>sobre esta tierra.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cercano al puerto<\/span>
\n<\/span>siempre despedido<\/span>
\n<\/span>sin rumbo<\/span>
\n<\/span>al menos tocar\u00e9<\/span>
\n<\/span>tu vientre ardido<\/span>
\n<\/span>y dejar\u00e9 el agua<\/span>
\n<\/span>que brota de mi boca<\/span>
\n<\/span>en las ma\u00f1anas.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Del libro <\/span>Balada de Joey Stefano<\/span><\/i>. Fragmentos en <\/span>La mano segadora<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>selecci\u00f3n antol\u00f3gica (1983-2021)<\/span><\/i>, Fundaci\u00f3n La Poeteca, Caracas, 2022.
\nLibro de artista concebido en colaboraci\u00f3n con Matheus Chiaratti en Quadra y Ikrek Edi\u00e7\u00f5es, S\u00e3o Paulo, 2023.<\/span><\/h6>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ilustraci\u00f3n: Dibujo por Matheus Chiaratti para <\/span>Balada de Joey Stefano<\/span><\/i>, 2022. Foto por Bruno Le\u00e3o.<\/span><\/h6>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Tocaste la puerta de la alcoba con paso de ojos pardos con ruido de ojos claros. Sigiloso y penetrante el cuerpo liso de la muerte abri\u00f3 sus cauces. Sus baladas, sus l\u00edquidos espesos y blancuzcos. Su cuna de hoy, su crisol su despedida. Tocaste, Nick, Joey el siempreotro tu pan duro, tu miga oscura. Que […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":21467,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2888],"tags":[4411],"genre":[],"pretext":[],"section":[],"translator":[],"lal_author":[4340],"class_list":["post-21607","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poesia","tag-numero-25-es","lal_author-luis-perez-oramas-es"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21607","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=21607"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21607\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21467"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21607"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21607"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21607"},{"taxonomy":"genre","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/genre?post=21607"},{"taxonomy":"pretext","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pretext?post=21607"},{"taxonomy":"section","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/section?post=21607"},{"taxonomy":"translator","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translator?post=21607"},{"taxonomy":"lal_author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/latinamericanliteraturetoday.org\/es\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/lal_author?post=21607"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}