Spain

Berta García Faet
2017

ME GUSTARÍA METER A TODOS LOS CHICOS QUE HE BESADO DESDE EL AÑO 1999 EN UNA MISMA HABITACIÓN

me gustaría meter a todos los chicos
que he besado
desde el año 1999
en una misma habitación
y volver a besar a todos los chicos
que quiero volver a besar
y besar en la mejilla (o tal vez en la frente)
a aquellos a quienes ya no amo
y decirles a los chicos cuyo nombre no recuerdo
hola, chico, cómo te llamas?
y decirles a los chicos cuyo nombre no olvidé
no me olvidé de tu nombre, y tú?

me gustaría ponerlos en fila
mirarles fijamente a los ojos uno por uno
por orden cronológico
y asignarles, no un número, sino un color y una temperatura
y asignarles, no un número, sino una canción pop

me gustaría ponerlos por parejas y hacer que practicaran
su expresión oral
en distintos idiomas
me gustaría ponerlos en un círculo
muy grande y muy ceñido en torno a mí
como si todos los chicos que he besado desde el año 1999
fueran un solo vestido, un solo vestido rojo de lunares blancos
un solo vestido que me quito porque tengo calor
un solo vestido que me quito porque tengo calor y porque quiero
quedarme
para siempre desnuda
con todos ellos en una misma habitación
cerrada con llave

me gustaría cerrar con llave esta habitación y no decir nada
no decir nada durante 3 o 4 minutos
y que se extrañen un poco
me gustaría decir luego muy tenuemente, en el momento justo,
que empiece la fiesta
me gustaría que se lo pasaran muy bien
bebiendo ponche comiendo emparedados y bailando
y que alguien grabara un vídeo
y que alguien sacara fotos comprometidas
y que se distrajeran y que se entretuvieran
porque la vida es eso
y que pensaran muy sinceramente
me alegro de haber venido
qué buena es la vida, qué tristeza
tenernos que morir

quiero que se hagan mejores amigos
quiero que charlen animadamente sobre política verde
y sobre adverbios
y sobre cómo es difícil
recordar ciertos nombres, olvidar ciertos nombres
y sobre cómo es difícil
escribir el poema que queremos escribir (que, por supuesto, no versa sobre chicos
ni sobre los besos de los chicos ni sobre chicos que se transforman en vestidos rojos
con lunares blancos
sino sobre política verde, sobre el concepto de verdad y metáfora
en la filosofía del lenguaje
de friedrich nietzsche, sobre la luz
y la oscuridad como verdad y metáfora de ciertas preguntas morales
que necesitan de otro vocabulario,
que necesitan de otro vocabulario mejor que no se base ni en titilaciones
ni en sombras de titilaciones,
sobre las normas y las transgresiones en la poesía amorosa de alfonsina storni,
sobre la poesía social de la postguerra española,
sobre política verde y sobre cómo es difícil
no pensar todo el rato en ciertos nombres)

me enorgullezco de haberme besado con chicos tan guapos
no me enorgullezco de los poemas que he escrito que son obviamente
malísimos
sino de los poemas que me leyeron
todos los chicos que he besado desde el año 1999
me enorgullezco de recordar ciertos nombres, de olvidar ciertos nombres
y de estar aquí
aquí en esta habitación
aquí en esta habitación cerrada con llave y, a la vez, entreabierta
la posibilidad de la música, la música que de repente
empieza a sonar muy fuerte, muy fuerte y todos bailan, todos piensan
me alegro de haber venido

me gustaría que ninguno se sintiera desplazado
y que ninguno se diera cuenta
de que en realidad lo que yo quiero ahora es hablar a solas con aquel chico
me gustaría tomar del brazo a aquel chico
y susurrarle
sinceramente tenía muchas ganas de tomarte del brazo
los 2 libros que me regalaste
me gustaron bastante, los leí en un tren
sinceramente el episodio de sexo salvaje estuvo genial
pero opino sinceramente que deberíamos casarnos o algo así, algo bien extremo y bien exaltado

me gustaría no clasificarlos
pero estoy segura de que los clasificaría porque clasifico todo
no lo haría por edad o por nacionalidad o por aptitudes o por estado civil
habría 2 grupos
el grupo de los chicos con los que fui yo
y el grupo de los chicos con los que no fui yo
(dentro del grupo de los chicos con los que no fui yo
seguramente habría algún chico impertinente
que me preguntaría
oye, si no eras tú, quién eras? friedrich nietzsche? alfonsina storni?
pero me he preparado una contrarréplica fulminante
chico, es una manera de hablar, al fin y al cabo siendo rigurosos y siguiendo
a friedrich nietzsche, la vida es eso,
maneras de hablar)

me gustaría volver a ponerlos en fila
y confesarles uno por uno por orden
cronológico y por telepatía
cosas secretas
del tipo cuando acampamos en la playa
me sentí tan feliz que me sentí muy triste
de tener que morirme algún día o del tipo
una vez chateamos por facebook durante 8 horas
y amaneció y sentí que la vida era eso

me gustaría meter a todos los chicos
que he besado
desde el año 1999
en una misma habitación y hacer estadísticas y averiguar
cómo me gustan los hombres y coger un altavoz y ponerme a declamar
lo siguiente:
aviso: de vez en cuando meteré a muchísimos hombres que me gustan
en un cuarto diminuto, que será metafórico o no será,
aviso: si pudiera pedir un deseo
pediría quereros igual y que aquel chico
estuviera de acuerdo en repetir aquel episodio de sexo salvaje y que aquel chico
se venga conmigo
a donde yo diga
que es básicamente a mi casa
aviso: tengo muchísimo miedo
de la locura
y de la maldad
y del teatro de eugene o’neill y de edward albee
aviso: me encantan las enumeraciones
aviso: hace trece o catorce versos
he parafraseado a jorge luis borges
aviso: mis preferencias eróticas están bastante definidas y a estas alturas
no sé si voy a cambiar
aviso: aspiro a morirme con mucha tristeza de morirme
siendo ya muy anciana
y habiendo acumulado ya mucha sabiduría
me visualizo claramente columpiándome en una mecedora
riéndome a carcajadas de un chiste absurdo

me gustaría volver a ver a todos los chicos
que he besado
desde el año 1999
tal y como eran entonces, y tal y como son hoy
2 o 3 veces más
en 2 o 3 fiestas privadas en las que suene de repente
y muy fuerte
muy buena música
todos desnudos, bajo un cielo rojo y blanco que sea como un vestido ajustado
que me quito porque tengo mucho calor
tengo mucho calor
me gustaría volver a ver a aquel chico
500 veces más

Published by permission of Berta García Faet

I WOULD LIKE TO PUT ALL THE BOYS THAT I HAVE KISSED SINCE THE YEAR 1999 IN THE SAME ROOM

I would like to put all the boys
that I have kissed
since the year 1999
in the same room
and to kiss again all the boys
that I want to kiss again
and to kiss on the cheek (or maybe on the lips)
those who I do not love anymore
and tell the boys whose names I don’t remember
hello, boy, what is your name?
and tell the boys whose names I haven’t forgotten
I didn’t forget your name, have you?

I would like to put them in a line
to look them directly in the eye one by one
in chronological order
and assign them, not a number, but a color or temperature
and assign them, not a number, but a pop song

I would like to put them in pairs and make them perform
their oral expression
in different languages
I would like to put them in a circle
a big one tightly wrapped around me
as if all the boys that I have kissed since the year 1999
were a single dress, a single red dress with white polka dots
a single dress that I take off because it’s hot
a single dress that I take off because it’s hot and because
I want
to remain
forever naked
with all of them in the same room
closed with lock and key

I would like to lock this room with a key and not say anything
not say anything for 3 or 4 minutes
so that they become a little puzzled
I would like to say later very dreamily, in the right moment,
let’s get this party started
I would like for them to have a very good time
drinking punch eating sandwiches and dancing
and for someone to record a video
and for someone to take compromising photos
and for them to distract themselves and entertain themselves
because this is life
and that they think very sincerely
I am happy to have come
how great is life, how sad
that we have to die

I want them to become best friends
I want them to talk cheerfully about environmentalism
and about adverbs
and about how it’s difficult
to remember certain names, to forget certain names
and how it’s difficult
to write the poem that we want to write (that, of course, doesn’t
talk about boys
or about kisses from boys or about boys that
transform into red dresses
with white polka dots
but about environmentalism, about the concept of truth and
metaphor
in the philosophy of language
of friedrich nietzsche, about light
and darkness as truth and metaphor in certain
moral questions
that need another vocabulary,
that need another better vocabulary that is not based neither in
flickerings
nor in the shadows of flickerings,
about the rules and transgressions in the love poetry of
alfonsina storni,
about the social poetry of postwar spain
about environmentalism and about how difficult it is
to not think all the time of certain names)

I feel proud of having kissed such cute boys
I’m not proud of the poems I have written that are
obviously
very bad
but of the poems that were read to me by
all the boys that I have kissed since the year 1999
I feel proud to remember certain names, to forget certain
names
and to be here
here in this room
here in this room that is closed with lock and key, and, at the same time
ajar
the possibility of music, music that suddenly
begins to play loudly, very loudly and everyone dances, everyone
thinks
I am happy to have come

I would like for nobody to feel out of place
and for nobody to realize
that in reality what I want right now is to speak alone with
that boy
I would like to take the arm of that boy
and to whisper to him
sincerely I was wanting to take your hand
those 2 books that you gave me
I quite liked them, I read them on a train
sincerely that episode of wild sex was fantastic
but I think sincerely that we should get married or something,
something quite extreme and impassioned

I would like to not classify them
but I am sure that I would classify them because I classify everything
I wouldn’t do it by age or by nationality or by aptitude or by
civil status
there would be 2 groups
the group of boys that I was myself with
and the group of boys that I wasn’t myself with
(within the group of boys I wasn’t myself with
surely there would be some rude boy
that would ask me
hey, if it wasn’t you, who was it? friedrich nietzsche? alfonsina
storni?
but I have prepared for myself an immediate response
boy, it’s a figure of speech, at the end of the day being
rigorous and following
friedrich nietzsche, this is life,
figures of speech)

I would like to put them in a line again
and confess to them one by one in chronological order
and telepathically
secret things
something like when we camped on the beach
I felt so happy that I felt sad
to have to die one day or like
one time we chatted on facebook for 8 hours
and the sun rose and I felt that life was this

I would like to put all the boys
that I have kissed
since the year 1999
in the same room and calculate statistics and figure out
how do I like men and to take a microphone and bring myself
to declaim
the following:
warning: from time to time I might put very many men that I
like
in a tiny room, that might be metaphorical or not,
warning: if I could ask for a wish to be granted
I would ask to love you all equally and that that boy
would agree to repeat that episode of wild sex
and that that boy
would come with me
wherever I said
which is basically to my house
warning: I am very afraid
of insanity
of wickedness
of the plays of euguene o’neill and of edward albee
warning: I love lists
warning: for the last thirteen o fourteen verses ago
I paraphrased jorge luis borges
warning: my sexual preferences are quite defined and at
this age
I don’t know if I will be able to change
warning: I aspire to die with lots of sadness for dying
being already very old
and having accumulated already lots of knowledge
I clearly visualize myself rocking in a rocking chair
laughing loudly to myself about an absurd joke

I would like to see again all the boys
that I have kissed
since the year 1999
exactly just as they were then, and just as they are today
2 or 3 more times
in 2 or 3 private parties in which there plays suddenly
and very loudly
very good music
everyone naked, under a red and white sky like a
tight-fitting dress
that I took off because it’s very hot
It’s very hot
I would like to see again that boy
500 more times

Berta García Faet (1988) is a Spanish poet, originally from Valencia. She holds degrees in Political Science and Political Philosophy and is currently a PhD candidate in the Department
of Hispanic Studies at Brown University. Just this year, she published a collection of poetry entitled, Los salmos fosforitos and continues her work on poetry from the second half of the twentieth century both from Spain and Latin America. www.bertagarciafaet.com

With the arranging of boys in a small room, García Faet evokes the image of a doll collection in a little girl’s room. As she plays with them, she imagines scenarios: what would they do, what would they say? And more importantly, what would she have them do next, or have them do again. She presents a living retrospective of a love life that stands with her, now tangible, yet at times inaccessible. The living bodies of boys once kissed surprisingly does not dehumanize or objectify them the way a reader might typically associate with the use of the imagery of a doll collection or the silhouette of a polka dotted dress. Rather, García Faet points to the essence of presence, both physical and symbolic. The poem brings to light the question, what is the body? What does it mean to be in control of your own? Or of a collection of bodies standing in front of you? You might move them around, make them interact, yet nevertheless, García Faet highlights the intangible: the illusive yet fundamental need for bodily presence, both as it seeks to bring us comfort through companionship as well as how it serves as a longing reminder of what is not longer there.

Translation and comment prepared by Mai Hunt