Vicente Luis Mora
from   Time

what is real is like a desert / an annihilation of the unconscious / because it is an alternative unconscious / what is real is no longer real / it is an imposed double / a ghostlike / image /of the reflection / of a mirror / what is real is this sand / it can be used to build walls / in the same way as it builds glass / we don't even have / the tiniest room / for what is credible / since there is no confrontation / the opposite sets an exact / double / reality is about speculating / it is devastating / it is spec(tac)ular / it is exasperating / it is expressive / you cannot escape from what is real / and there is no room for the Ego / because its resting place/ the dream / the unconscious of the brain / is subjugated / by the oneiric gridded / the magenta planning / of the nighttime anxiolytic / swayed / by complete / motionless calm / from the sleeping pills

from   Construction

This is the image:
a man tripping like he is drunk
while he walks running away
from whom he loves

a man as a black hole
alone in perpetual self-annihilation
a man as an isotope of cesium
a man that seems to burn
as a comet that flies through the cosmos
and that is –as a comet– rock and ice
a man as a malignant polyp
a man in crisis as an antiquark
a mineral at zero (degrees) Kelvin


      love
that in the same manner as mercury
quickly gets cold when fire ceases

      pain
that in the same manner as plutonium
requires over a thousand years to contract (itself)
when it becomes bright red

from   Time

I look at the sand.
      I think of
      its interspaces.
I know that Heidegger
would neither think of the being
of each grain
nor of the thing itself
of the desert,
but of the in between
of its being,
what lies
in between
the grains
that turns them
into grains.
And I think of physics,
that also studies
spaces
between two moments
in time
and I look
at the sand again
and think
that perhaps in a primitive
time, preceding
time,
this desert
was just a white
rock, of compact
plaster,
to which someone
applied the absolute zero,
in order to break up
its molecules.
And the result
is this cosmos
of split up/dismembered
interstices
and I know that it obsesses me
because
there is the same
disintegration
within myself

Translated from the Spanish by Adriana Alcina Gomez

Vicente Luis Mora is the author of the novel Alba Cromm (2010), a work in progress titled Circular (2003, 2007), a collection of short stories titled Subterráneos (2006), and five books of poetry (Serie, Tiempo, Construcción, Nova, and Mester de cibervía). He has won several prizes for his literary work, and has been translated into German, French, English, and Polish. Mora was Visiting Professor at Brown University in 2012.

Adriana Alcina Gomez holds degrees in Journalism from the University of Bilbao and the Danish School of Journalism in Aarhus. She received an M.A in Ethnomusicology from Queen's University in Belfast, and an M.A. in Spanish Studies from the University of Connecticut. She is the coeditor of Your Danish Life a cultural magazine for the international community in Denmark.