NYC30H

Rodrigo Arenas (Santiago, 1976). BA in Economics and BA in Education. He has been a dj, radio show
host and teacher. Former member of the creative writing workshop “Zona de Contacto”. His work has
been published at several magazines and newspapers as El Mercurio, Fracturas, Verandi, and so on.
Finalist in the Paula Magazine short stories contest and the Fundacion Balmaceda poerty contest.
Currently, he is the editor of the Lifestyle and Trends Section at indie.cl magazine.

Sebastian Santander Lazo. (San Bernardo, Santiago, 1987) Librarian and Arts Manager. Studies in
Contemporary Spanish-American Literature (Diamela Eltit). Former member of the creative writing
workshops “Zona de Contacto” and "Poesía y Edición" (Raul Hernandez and Gladys Gonzalez) Since
2008 he organizes the book club “Club de Lectura y Diversidad Sexual” at Biblioteca Regional de
Santiago de Santiago. Rights activist and artist.

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 NYC30H

Poems by Rodrigo Arenas

Drawings by Sebastian Santander Lazo

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© 2010 Rodrigo Arenas Ibacache y Sebastian Santander L.
Registro Propiedad Intelectual Inscripción Nº 193.531
ISBN: 978-956-332-715-1

Diseño: Rodrigo Arenas Ibacache

Dibujo de Portada y Contraportada: Sebastian Santander L

Primera Edición: 30 ejemplares.

Prohibida su reproducción total o parcial, para uso privado o colectivo, en cualquier medio impreso o
electrónico de acuerdo a las leyes Nº 17.336 y 18.443 de 1985 (Propiedad intelectual)

musicbar.cl@gmail.com
http://rodarenas.wordpress.com/

Impreso en Chile por IGD Impresores

© 2010 Rodrigo Arenas Ibacache y Sebastian Santander L.

Chilean Rights Register Nº 193.531
ISBN: 978-956-332-715-1

Design: Rodrigo Arenas Ibacache

Front and Back Cover draws: Sebastian Santander L

First Edition: 30 issues.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, not be
otherwise circulated in any form or binding or cover other than that in which published.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, organizations, places, events, and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rights protected by Chilean Laws Nº 17.336 y 18.443 from 1985

Printed en Chile by IGD

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 For D.L.W.

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 chile

An urban pronunciation of "child". Is pronounced like Child but without the D at the end.
“I know somebody payin' chile support for one of his kids.”

[From Urban Dictionary (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=chile) ]

6
 INTRO

I told you
I warned you
gave you this speech
before the penguins were released
and the guns and the hands
and the fares and the streets
and the friends and the dances
and the trains and the holy wait
and the vans and the cabs
and the (new) Yankee Stadium
and the green night who never ends
and the flag and the bucks
and the bye and the silence
and the cigarettes and more cigarettes
and the ands

my country is a country of poets

poets hiding among the cold

orphans through an opaque glass
jumping from the buildings
because the sound
of a lyre had become unstoppable
turning on their lanterns
while emerging from the ruins
having little orgasms
while working on a building
exposing their lean chests
and selling cheap vegetables
fighting in barefoot grace
against the earth, a dream, an enemy, and a paper ball
even without a stage
even without a witness

do you want me to continue?

may I give you a list?
Florcita Sings

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 Clotario Struggles
Divinísimo Scribe
Vargas Strikes
Stella Santa
Balmaceda Sangre
Lira Lihn in the kingdom of heaven
and the rest that el Mapocho olvidó
this is the country of the dove words
as it was in the beginning
both now
and always
and to the ages of ages
amen

(I told you
I warned you
my country is a country of poets
so do not put the blame on me)

8
 YIVUPBWAYA

In the beginning when my blind new child used to felt the ground as an old friend, the earth was a
formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a green wind started to swept over the
face of the waters

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10
 FIRST STAGE

Manhattan appeared
behind the door
and my hands went in panic
cause my fatherless brown skin
had bullied tremors
and blind doves

27/F
9/11

bright lights
and no eights
both talked to me
you’re just a ghost here
you’re just another one
wandering
in the purgatory
so go and move
as in 1984
bite a burger train you credit buy the love t-shirt let the streets blind you get a cab without need say
sorry sorry sorry just sorry all the time walk fast forget your mind drown in a coffee cup your painless
deceased

Manhattan has no doves

no earthquakes
no fairy tales drawn in green and red
Manhattan has no scars
no inside corners where to sit down
no cheap vegetables and paper balls
Manhattan is silent in the rush hour
it’s a quiet princess
a non smoking junkie
a neverending day

11
 ORACLE

I touched carefully the skin of the streets

that black velvet with chocolate scent
I frotted every new street I faced
while the wind sucked my nipples
until they started to bleed
I squeezed desperately my map
with the secret hope of a green night
I cum when my instinct became my compass
and relaxed
before I chose
to start walking
again

Lincoln Tunnel turned me on

Times Square turned me on
Ellis Island turned me on
Hudson River turned me on
Port Authority turned me on
and even Christopher St turned me on
I was named the shame of the ghosts
the dammed one
someone put sunglasses over my eyebrows
so
I built a ditch following the paths of the wise ones
and forgot the bright lights for a lifetime

12
 CHAWANYA

so I went to a club in the hearth of the city the real core and the shyness was cradled by a nice dirty
oracle emerged from the ruins checked the no smoking board checked the no shaking board and soon
little by little my skin turned black got my teen days back my body hair was vanished I started to lose
the chrysalis of the ghost in this little high school I was just another one who shared that sweet pink
anxiety and the word bullying disappeared the number 8 disappeared the ghost also disappeared a flag
was rescued from the mud and was written into the skin of my palms the music kept on playing on and
on and on I was so pretty at last lost in ebony at last I watched Missy Daily dancing with himself I
watched the local huachos with his dark turned on no tremors outside no tremors inside sunglasses
went to garbage and the little big dream of a few one was at last the creamy dream of a lot a lot of ones
who didn’t know how deeply I started to love their Etoro bones their blatino souls their nuyorican quiet
hearts FOREVER

and a taxi was a bed a trick was the trick my mouth became adult a folk emerged from the 88 ruins but
then I saw into the red that a comeback started to resemble a junkie man so I ran away waiting for the
mandatory aftershocks and the stage of the club changed
FOREVER

as it was in the beginning

both now
and always
and to the ages of ages
amen

13
 HELLO

hello
hi there
like a thief in the dark
a jumpin’ lovely boy
with this dyed beautiful head
offered me three green eyes
through the darkness of the night

hello
hi there
hello
mucho gusto
merci
how are you
you remain me of an actor
your name
everyone was silent
at the bar
and I said yes
to the green eyes
through the tough darkness
of the neverending night

14
 LANGUAGE

what’s your passion

you asked
mr.
what’s your passion
my passion is writing, I said
my passion is dancing, you said
but your waist was slashed
and my fingertips collapsed
it was a long long time ago
when the ground crushed
and the dancer was fired
from the heights of one island

but the dream of Zamenhof was born

Tower of Babel went back to life
the ruins became goat milk
and the floating dust resembled Inca’s gold
a dove started to dream about penguins
two islands discovered their bare flesh
green and brown in the aftershocks
tongues shook hands again
and the stage of that bar changed
FOREVER

15
 DANCE WIV ME

you asked me a dance

but I don’t dance
I just tremor
I lost the beat
I had reflex spasms
8.8
dust arrived
and some jumped when the sound
of a lyre become unstoppable
but a flag was rescued
from the mud
and was tattooed with care
in the core of my palms

and we both kept on dancin’

until the barman turned off the lights
Missy Daily was following the beats
among empty glasses and silent drunks
the minted air of Chelsea said hello
but a subway station shouted goodbye
that could have been just another night
any given Friday night
in any island of the world
in any neighborhood
for any bird
for any color
for any pair of casual lovers
but I had already taken my first dance lesson
and you managed to create
a timeless
holy wait

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 TAKE ME HOME

“I was not sure if you would like me to enter under your roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be
healed.”
(Spiritual Communion Catholic Practice - Remixed)

you americans
you don’t know
how we the chileans are

chile is the country of the dove words

of the tears of the unconscious
and the laughs of the slaves
of the timeless hoax
and the stubborn buildings
so you ought to know
that my answer was always yes

it took you a long time

to shout what you wanted to
you weren’t shy when you said hello
but in the subway you were just a wuss
where was you, the unbeatable firefighter
the wise clerk
the self made man?
even Saint Rosa Parks your nevertired guardian
was shamed
while standing
in a side of your bed

actually I’m trying to explain you

what an astonished Chilean guy
expects from a Bronx’s hard thug boy
he looks for a savage lovely wet tender gangsta love child
not for the one that hides his scars
under a pile of shaking phrases

and holding me in the subway station

you finally said it right

17
 then
two hands started to rebuild
the sacred island paths
even if it was too early at night
I began to cuddle Bronx
with my bleeding peeling hands

18
 $ 50 CAB FARE

$50 cab fare

who cared?
I should have paid eight millions
but I think I’ll pay
with the Olives’ cup
for myself

anyway
I hold the grail
because of the new quietness
that sails into your eyes
and due to the infinite dark
emerging from your hands
$50 cab fare
who cared?
the time is now
love
amen

19
 KALAVE

and I begin to paint your scars

in green and brown
while your hands start to stop
the tsunamis and tremors
of my brown plundered skin
I leave my bullied childish bones
sailing into the land
of your Bx Siddhārtha blood
that mixes with my savage songs
pachamama anthems
Etoro sounds
rebuilding my fingers and asphalting my palms
bringing back to life your forgotten cradle
and your undanceable waist
as It should have been from the beginning of times
both now
and always
and to the ages of ages
amen

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 YOU

NY NY
Bronx
so, I shout
at last
this is Amerika

BX NY is the LOVE that comes from above

as the light of god over the suffering souls of my damaged skin
BX used to be the streets You walked everyday
singin’ Your gospels in jungle sounds
but now that my barefoot bleeding feet
are able to speak in brown in green
they are leaving writing in the avenue Your name in red
and my head is healed by Your Etoro hands
after 88 quakes
in the middle
of the darkest night

BX is the land(on)
of the last dreams
Saint Simon Bolivar
and Archangel Martin Luther King
they kiss each other
with no shoes
the dreams of the green penguins
and the land that demands white milk
Jose Manuel Balmaceda
and the orphan that was never alone
Saint Sebastian
fertile ground
black and brown
never Prince
just the two longest rivers
surrounding their islands
the ground remains maiden
with all the stillness I need
You You You

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 it’s You all the time
all day the green night
penguins in the sky
and the earth stands quiet
all my life
everything I did
everything the people gave 2 me
led me here
2 Your coach made of the wood of 1810 angels
that will take care of You and Your mess and Your hymns and Your blessed soul
even in the blindest day
amen

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23
 THE MORNING AFTER

rebuilding continues
four strange pieces of bread
the remains of the butter of the week
three boiled eggs
a couple of glasses with green tea
a pair of turntables for pleasure
some e-mails to check
trousers to wear again
cold water on the face
a subway station on the west
an invitation 2 Your show
and I’ll see U late
before another cigarette
my exodus starts
amen

24
 WALKING OVER SAND

the whole evening

I sing my songs
2U
in green
with a choir of penguins
under the desert sun
with no tremors I sing
I sing as a bullyied kid
I sing as a caring land
I sing as a huacho
I sing as a new father
I sing as a prayer 2 god
while having dinner with some friends for the last time
I sing as Allende before the night
of the 17 quakes
and the 88 tremors
I sing as an old slave
who watches his daughter
gone with no goodbye
maybe it’s not right
but my heart cries now
so I sing
in silence
it’s me
who is moving now
but it’s too late
oh, my gosh!
I need to get
a taxi cab

25
 LOVE I

and I arrive 2 the venue

silent
brown
extremely barefoot
seat down in a corner
have a shy and quiet time
while the tribe
shake their hands
released from slavery
again
but You come with a kiss
a simple
natural kiss
another kiss for the (hi)story
of two islands
a kiss
it’s just a kiss
a kiss that changes the world
a kiss
and the building machines
make the greener noises
and a frenetic dance
takes the dead rocks away
no questions
no stranger
no ghost
no bull
no temblor
just names
and faces
just kisses
and friends
We dance
there’s no sky
neither earth
We all dance
in this tiny place

26
and this is the moment when I realize
that I am
in the promised land

27
28
 WANDERING

las calles del Bronx / las calles de Estación Central

they hold Our kisses
and silly hugs
the garbage is the star
of this neverending night
the chill is our palace
with no Princes, just Us
and we let Our body
to run as a river
wrapped by the minted wind
and warmed by the neon lights
We walk wiff no destiny
no stray
no time
just a dance
but We move
not earth
no fares
old ladies smile while they stare at us
the cats give Us the freedom
of an indifferent sight
the world around Us is black
two islands are the grass
of the new abolition speech
history rests in peace
a dove opens her eyes
in Broadway Avenue / in Alameda Bernardo O’Higgins
the blood from my brown feet
write Our name in green
the streets ain’t no shakin’
and the penguins fly
no earth
no stray
no time
no fares
just the beat
of one heart

29
 Ours
hours
Ours
hours
and hours
Us
U.S.
As
Tuyyo
Tuyo
cause Cafuso Lobo Marabou Garífuna achieved
to divide the waters
and let Us keep on movin’
the horizon ain’t here no more
all We need
it’s just a dirty long street
an smile
and an indifferent sight

30
 THE NIGHT

lost in Harlem
lost in Our chest
lost in the green
lost into penguins
lost in the desert
lost in the jungle
We are a teen
surviving
into the bogus river
that won’t never stops
but the holy inefficiency
of TransNewYork
seems to be
helping Our green

My Own
amuv
don’t You need to stop
the bogus river
U just need
to become Etoro
again

31
 WISH I COULD STOP HERE

the world around Us is tough

it laughs of Our amuv paths
tries 2 stop Us in the middle
of an empty iced street
cuz’ maybe don’t they still get it
that a kiss is just a kiss is a simple kiss could be Your kiss a kiss is soft my kiss is hard a kiss can eat
and breath and cry dis is a kiss that changed da world rite now

ayo spick
ayo coon
ayo move u feet
a piece appears az a sunshine
but i’ll go wherever we want 2
wherever Our name deserves to be written
so don’t b afraid
I be savin’ U 2 save Us right now
Jose Manuel Balmaceda and Allende
as it should have been from da beginning of times
both now
and always
an’ ta the ages of ages
amen

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33
 LAST KI$$

da wind
of da subway train
it’s da setting
2 da last moment
of amuv

lips come together

cocks wannabe together again too
but You left da Etoro
back 2 da closet
“u got my email, u can send me some music”
it’s your will
U foul MoFo, son o’ da bitch, conchatumadre, puto de mierda
i warned You how we the Chileans are…

can’t nobody beat Us now

34
 LUV II

lone in da train
some penguins join me
da sunlight
appeared in scene
da nite is a ghost
da subway is shakin’
da tribe is scarce
da gold has been loot
my feet bleedin’ rivers
Your waist hesitates
i’m into silence
no cum 2 give
no words
no dove
no gospel
no dance
no fly
no jungle
just the remains of black brown green

but befo da door close

U turned back a sight
an’ that’s the time when i realized
dat I found da promised land

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36
 AFTA/WORDZ

everybody iz talkin’ about me in dis town

he’s gone crazy they’re sayin’
but da town iz done
thonx
an’ a trip was gone
thonx
now i got no tribe
got no penguins
got no dances
got no green
got no word
got no hood
got no islands
got no scars
got no nite
got no jungle
my feet iz destroyed
but they can still draw
Your eyes on da screebs
of Bx / Estación Central
thonx

without U
i are lost
just beggin’ as an ghost o’ my homies’ cribs

without U
i just runnin’ away
from quakes

37
 THONX

Sebastian Santander and Victor Rocha @ Barrio Brasil, SCL

Eliana Ibacache Trigo and Juan Carlos Castillo Ibacache @ Elmwood Park, NJ
Michael Ramon @ Harlem, NY
Jorge Alliende @ Providencia, SCL
Paula Bassano @ Providencia, SCL

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