Two Poems

Colonists

Over there in that urban landscape
where two trees are barely distinguishable,
decades ago there was a river
overwhelming and sweet
they drained it to urbanize the riverbed.
When it rains profusely
the river reclaims its space.
The city dwellers call that decolonial act of rain:
floods. And run away from them.
They seem to have forgotten about Salcedo
and search – with horror – for answers
to the possibility of drowning.

Book Burning

Instead of a pyre
now they dictate who not to read.
Others see Mjölnir
and pass by good judgment
the earth and its lightning.
Somewhere in a rural place
Prometheus’s liver
receives the bites
of vultures
every day
for the first time.

Translations from the Spanish