Convert This

Well, Convert This.
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This is the chapbook of poetry by Janet Kuypers translated into espanol, and then, well, back to english...

tears of the father Really it never knew him. Workboots of the location of the work knew to the scent of his, Knew the scent of martinis waiting for it in the country. The sound of its long walk knew: its ankles that become broken, its keys that confuse. Sternness of its voice knew, and knew to that around me he only smiled for the photographies. The emotions had their place for him. It reserved the happiness for the friends, rage for the home. In all he it did and felt he showed to force and power. I have seen it shout twice. Once it cut his hand with a mountain range. I saw the fabric four inches of thickness soaked with blood around its hand. I saw the drops of the blood in the seat of the car. He conducted himself to the hospital. It was always in control. But I heard the pain in its voice. It was stopped in the road and I shouted.

high roller Is of length to see seating him cigarette to disposition walkman again in the vector Desire to be able to cross for above behind you the hands in its shoulders inclines my head next to its face I of length to have my cheek close so near yours touching but that it could immovable does not feel their heat their desire our skin would not touch but immovable sensation the connections of his is present at

loving desire I am putting in bed and I am watching he above here he is slept healthy perfectly happy you know, I cannot remember the last time maintain to me it does not have any idea what I am thinking he perfectly is contained this way he decided to pass the rest of my life with him he is my better friend but I do not know if he loves to me damnit loving desire

Irons De Kurt (a girl is right) Irons De Kurt whereas it drinks lead robbed right car in other car and killed a woman according to police information, Irons De Kurt were surprised by the halting by the fact that he was loaded with of vehicles homicide Irons De Kurt was quoted as saying “types he is to right girl, man is a girl - nothing but to girl”

The Lover Has Tendrils the lover has tendrils of length, liquid, forming arcs, stirring up itself, throwing but under the water I have slid far one also often saved the pull hard to never throw enough of me inside you were I keep looking for for those endless arms to become involved around me in order to strangle it stops me to kill to me until I rise yet again jadeo for the air

motorcycle you scared to me but I had taste of her memory to seat to me behind you in its motorcycle I think my fingers I maintained its waist. and memory to watch my head in its shoulder in the rear view mirror. and I smiled, because it was its shoulder as it felt me more comfortable with you, I moved my head nearer its neck, smelled its Colony, felt the heat to radiate of its skin. you scared to me I tightened your waist every time I thought that you must have used the brakes but still I seated behind you in addition, was a good excuse to cling to you.

packing it also has often when I have this before it never thought that really it would leave him and now I feel here in this apartment bowl of source of the popcorn eleven the thirty at night television that plays parasitic atmospheric they seem too clean inside here, not lived inside I so decide to take a trip leaves this place in the dormitory, it measures the time to begin packing: two aligned, two additional pairs of the short circuits, jackets, solitude, rage, socks it is surprising how much of your life you can fit in a single suitcase

it photographs, nineteenth century that woman who represent the images the beauty and smoothness of the something that does not have to be touched could not work that the sepia cannot work oh how oh is old the dependency oh the degradation my mind has been hindered a bastard of the society I cannot see the women I see the hat the pen the adornments of the beauty the absurd way have made him to be not heard and it is only one image forced it with an image is that a shame is he a sin and now they have corrupted to me with the knowledge of the society with the knowledge of him are the reasons and now I cannot even see the beauty I can only see oppression “oh, is not like that one” that says as I flicker and wonder that I am trying to make an impression

enclosure fourteen it was one night long for us, beginning towards outside in his apartment with his manufacture and fellow worker roommate who comes above daisies up to two in the morning, but of course then we decided that the best thing to do would be to leave and so to the blue note we extinguished ourselves, found some interesting people to speak to, closed the bar, I think that it was first time I always did that, to closed takes bar at night, I mean, and in four-thirty you down lead the homemade avenue to me of milwaukee and I know that he fishes with cane, and you can see the traffic light for the next traffic as you can see your own light so easily, but I am safe that the light was green, and the red one does not have taste of polis sayings, when you threw confusion you you could have been in great that night, no insurance worries, no city labels starchy of the registry

resurrection of deads I request too much story with too much I know that it will be equal as it is always something will go bad and you will come behind crawling you hope that you gather the pieces again? I am I supposed to watch it everything falls aside then it makes all the right again? you never give the advantage me of the doubt you think that some other is better good, I am perhaps vain but I know better and soon its world will crumble again and I will become, because I have resurrection of deads

salesman The timbre sounded “who could stop close in this hour?”, I thought, but I put my compartment down and I crossed to the door. A man in a game of plaid been stopped in the lobby with a portfolio spent in its hand. He has a tired smile, the style businesses. It almost looked like genuine. Like him rambled in and around... Well, really I do not know what he said. I does not even know what it wished “which is he who sells?”, I thought, and my the track arrived to be navigated with its confused words. It looked like everything like absurd. But it looked like everything to have sense. I did not have taste of which I heard. But I tried to listen. I wished to listen. I had to grasp me to the doorframe: I had to maintain to me constant whereas thoughs of this man tried to strike to me down. Finally I stopped “what you you are trying to sell to me? Which are you trying to do?”, I requested.

statue I think about the statues of the Greek Gods were what could inhale people to be were something to make an effort stops and I have not had any inspiration with exception of my own mind and have created my own images to keep going and I have been successful I have done it everything I have the fame, the fortune and now I watch around and everything what I see is destruction I see the ruins of a fallen age and as soon as desire to see that statue is so alive in my mind and I know that it must be towards outside there somewhere but I have so hardly been working so of length that I forgot on the light in the end of the tunnel and now I do not know where to watch

Tome the Pain When I am placing in the sun I close the eyes only so slightly and the blows of the sun down and burns my face and penetrates my flickers and burns My eyes. Filter to keep. I fight to keep right my closed from the eyes slightly to survive the burning light, burning themselves. You understand this fight, you you make this to see how long you can take the pain You know, when I fight as this under light I can feel like the lips beginning to part and she almost hopes that you reach above and who she kisses to me There is a fine line between pleaseure and the pain When I am placing in the sun I close the eyes only so slightly and volume the pain

they called confidence You remember when you were rainy night 1:30 morning one and you asked to me what I wished to do? I said that it wished him to take a bottle from champagne, raises ignition the roof of its toasted house and in the rain that spills. You asked why I said that to me. I shrank my shoulders flippantly and this that was something to do. But it proved to him. It was scared to request if you would follow to me when I said trust to him. And that one is why trusted to him when you spilled champagne and kissed my wet skin

this one is my dilemma if they went to you this one you are my dilemma if just not taken care of more if as soon as the piece acts if just not taken care of more if hardly left fuck him me if just not taken care of more if hardly be him to it who takes care of who takes care of what is around is acceptable have sent to Me around before They use me to this use Me to this routine: forwards and backwards, and then forgetting to forget the sensations to forget its name forget me, if you wish enjoyment goes next freely I have felt it before I have lived before I have known It before I have lived before and there is no new emotion to me so if this one is my dilemma

too much light too much light does that the baby goes blind and too much light makes moth rush in the flame and dice in a final glorious brilliance of the glory and I have seen the light and I have seen it which is my option: burn in the flame to distribute quickly to die young or to slide slowly far to die slowly day per day leaves people in the dark throws of me inside advance to little by inch until the light kills to me

what you could do to me that she does I Memory when you and fodder plant and Joe and I it decided to kill to a bottle of champˆn, color of rose of Andre, two-for-five, in a cover of the building in the December cold. Memory to be unemployed in the cover of this building with this bottle of champˆn cheap in my hand and not to take care of that was cold, that that broke the law. He was young, and it frees. And it had friends. We were stopped in the dimension of a variable of a triangle and did to the person in the drunk center. I said that they had to rotate whereas they drank, then belch when they were done. The fodder plant and Joe were more than wanting; belching was a competition for them. And I did one of the boys by one night, to become closest to you. You did not wish belch, or to return, or really even to the drink. I did not do to him. But you. And it wanted to think that about its heart you you did it because you wished to follow to me.

where I belong well, I have found that I must is enslaved to persecute causes my hands and my feet are limited the Earth and I fight to sing as soon as a sound thanks so to sing this song to show to me incorrect is where I belong I am in a haze fill with this rage encaged to me by the labyrinth confused in this stage yet and they dazzle to me as pagino through my wage in brilliance and thanks to sing this song to show to me incorrect are where I belong I smell macis I cover so my face in case that in my rapidity I can track the rough taste is my passage in this race is all a as soon as sweepings yes, thanks to sing this song to show to me incorrect are where I belong in tribute to M. Gore

why never I will obtain married the work we have been watching for a new employee we have sifted through curriculum we have met ourselves with some and some were good some were very good and we took a certain time to decide and then we called our option #1 and they said that they wished more money than we offered we so this our good bye and we called ours second option and they said that they could not work in a place so small so anybody in the work this we must be met with greater and that one is when it knew in the tariff we never went we would find any person and nobody would wish us

Copyright Janet Kuypers. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission.

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