by David Huerta

Gritty frost from
the radio speaker
in the car's
nomadic shadows:
a swamp of sounds
in which hearing's
needle can
barely move.
Out of nowhere,
a torch singer
slices through Wittgenstein
with the cutlery
of cante jondo...
How does she do it? -
unstitch, unseam
language itself,
make the world flow and
if that wasn't enough
hit the twin peaks
of grace and tragedy?
The car
anointed with music
slips into the night.

The literal translation of this poem was made by Jamie McKendrick

The final translated version of the poem is by Jamie McKendrick


  1. May 13th, 2013 at 3:13 am

    Tapangia Richardson says:

    so sensative


  2. January 17th, 2011 at 7:50 pm

    Juliet Parker says:

    Very good, reminds me of a free-verse poem.  Continue to write!

  3. May 27th, 2010 at 9:36 pm

    Hayley Menzies says:

    I Liked It How U Explained It And How U Used Some Spanish This Will Help With My Topic!!!!