his poetry wants so much to belong to us—to those who know intimately why a relentless self-exposure to the world has to be made, somehow, into a virtue because otherwise it is just abuse. (AN)
Leave the womb
Leave the fear
Leave the nest
Hit the road
Hightail it
Head the hell out
Live hidden
Without a sound
Not seen
Nor heard
Be not
From this earth
But from nothing.
Ex Nothing (Ex Nada), Cecilia Vicuña, translated from the Spanish by Rosa Alcalá
