Zero Gravity

Eric Gamalinda

• Publisher: Alice James Books
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9781882295203
• eBook ISBN: 9781938584879

Winner of the 2000 Asian American Literary Award for Poetry.

Casida of the Souvenir Postcard

Lorca  was    walking down         Cuesta de Gomerez

when   he     saw a group      of       young actors

moving      a platform.   They   had        hoisted it

over    their    shoulders,       and all he could        see

was    a headless       army     of two dozen     bodies,

forty-eight      upraised         arms,   forty-eight      legs

inching       slowly  up      Alhambra      Hill,

and       all       he       could    hear was          the sound

of       their shuffling feet,  and the     green      wind

playing            tag with   the    moonlight.        And this,

he knew,          was a    vision of         death.    He walked

down   the curve         where St. John           of

the Cross      had been born,    and was trying    to recall

if what he had    seen   was a dream. For the past two weeks

he had        been dreaming         incessantly, so that

at      some   point, perhaps yesterday,      as he drank

his      third coffee,     it          became   impossible to tell

where     the dreams     stopped                and where

his   normal        life began. And so   he kept walking,

and along      the way he    met strange    apparitions:

black   -       veiled women            assaulting him with

crucifixes; dogs       made of       lead;   iron   roses;

a       masturbating    Christ; his own   face in the   bottom

of a     well. Finally,     at the end       of       the road,

on      Plaza   Nueva,         he saw   me.   Only   this is

58    years later, and     I      am   looking      not for Lorca

but      for a    cold   tubo  of    Cerveza    San    Miguel.

And     at       this point      he      realizes he was right

all along,      that   death      defies    gravity,

that our           bodies   fly  in our     sleep, that only

the   sound of         water  will outlast       all    memory.

He thanks      me      for showing    up in his dream and

attempts      to embrace    me, but his    arms   pass

through      my body (not     surprisingly)

because    he   and I   are   phantoms,    and   Granada,

at        no other   instant   than  this, does    not exist,

or  is something   he and I     dreamt    up. He and I,

however,    are not    dreaming    the same    dream.

And   before       it     gets too       complicated

I         tell      him,    Lorca, you’d better   be on your way

and         I’d better              get my       beer.

And     then    something    strange     happens.

I         realize     I’m not       talking to Lorca

but     to    a     postcard of      Lorca   in   a tienda.

And the      man        selling      postcards

is looking             at me      with a mixture

of     wonder and   pity,   and asks    Estas

loco?         And     I         think he wants

to   know     if I need    a     stamp,

so             I           reply

Si,     un sello,       and he says      Para      donde?

And     I  don’t know    what to say, I have forgotten

who     I want to     send it to,    or where I come    from,

or what          I’m              doing   here,        so I say:

Quiero

lancear el

corazon         del mundo,

quiero lo

arrancar

del                        ombligo de

sueño.

And    he             looks          at          me

and              shakes           his        head

and           hands   me    my           stamp

and   my       change

and       I know         he understood, or   maybe

I’m      still      dreaming, and I can          walk away

before               he   finds   out

that    I’d    given    him    dream          money,

and     these      words              were  never              said.

Manifesto for Myself

Know all persons by these presents

1. Wherever

2. I

3. go

4. I carry the sorrow of my country

5. its memory of water

6. its calendar of inclemencies

7. If my voice sounds far away

8. if I argue with the logic of ideograms

9. I insist I can’t help it

10. this is the language

11. I speak in my dreams

Whereas

12. I carry the light of all countries

13. everywhere I go

14. I declare myself responsible

15. for the upkeep of their bridges

16. their poor their balconies

17. the fading lamps

18. and evanescence of dawn

19. I claim you as my burden

20. the you I will never meet

21. I bear your music

22. and your histories

23. and your children begging in the streets

24. and your mothers

counting the bullets

in the hollow nest of corpses

25. I am that one made of copper of shadow of salt

26. I have asked my poems

27. to bear the weight

28. of illicit conversations

29. dead letters

30. the insatiable murmur of the penitent

31. the two faces

32. of joy and sin

33. Everywhere that a man

34. goes hungry

35. is denied his speech

36. is driven from his home

37. I am the one who must accept

38. his bitter music

39. his silence

40. his terrifying oracle

41...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Note to the Reader
• Dedication
• Acknowledgments
• Contents
• Subterranean
• There Are Many Ways of Remembering
• You Can Choose Your Afterlife
• Blue, Kind of
• Memory Is Not a Privilege of the Poor
• Definition of Flamenco in 245 Words
• Five Tango Sensations
• Uqbaresque
• Las Ruinas del Corazon
• Casida of the Souvenir Postcard
• Manifesto for Myself
• When the Heart Flies from Its Place
• Naming the Trees
• Klee: Cold City
• Saint Francis on the Hudson
• Conquistador at Times Square
• The Properties of Light
• Zero Gravity
• Motion Sickness
• Lullabye
• Afterlives of the Saints
• Letters to Theo
• Loon Lake, New Hampshire
• Buddha’s Bone
• The Book of Revelations, Revised for the Skeptical Reader
• Chosen
• The Book of the Dead, Revised for the Skeptical Reader
• Factory of Souls
• Flash Photography
• In Pavia, viewing Augustine’s tomb, after reading this line from Bufalino
• Enough
• Hear Rocks Sing Near Skyline Drive!
• Beauty and Suffering
• The Opposite of Nostalgia
• About the Author