Festival Internacional de Poesía de Medellín

I am

I am the great Virginia Grütter, do you remember her?
the one that spits tobacco in the corners
and is hoarse from so much shouting
and walks like a painted-up and staggering trail

I am Marguerite Duras with her young lover
and her refined and alcoholic life

I am Simone de Beauvoir even with her Jean Paul Sartre
and her intellect and feminism and academy

I am the imbecile femme who coming from a dusty town
talks about French eroticism
before an audience of subnormal persons

I am the lowest whore dragged along by the hair
filthy and naked

I am the poor wretch
who hasn’t a shred of brains
a hypochondriac
who walks like an idiot waiting for the father of her children
or the priest
to give her an alms

I am
the one with the body carved on the stone
the one that wastes her eyes in the sand
the one that cannot talk about love so easily

Translated by Nicolás Suescún

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