Through binoculars the spiral nebula was
a smudged white thumbprint on the night sky.
Stories said it was a mark left by the hand
of Night, that old she, easily weaving
the universe out of milky strings of chaos.
 
Beatrice found creation more difficult.
Tonight what she had was greasy water
whirling in the bottom of her sink, revolution,
and one clean cup.
 
She set the blue cup
down on the table, spooned instant coffee, poured
boiling water, a thread of sweetened milk. Before
she went back to work, she drank the galaxy that spun
small and cautious between her chapped cupped hands.

Elbows

Cover your arms.
Don't let your elbows
show.

That's what my neighbors
down in Alabama tell
their daughters
so no elbow
plump or thin
tan or pink
will entice others
to passion.

But if I thought
my scrawny, two-toned
elbows would lure you

if I thought
my skinny, sharp-boned
elbows could secure you

I'd flap my arms
like a chicken
like a pea-fowl
like a guinea hen

when next I saw you
honey
I'd roll
up my sleeves and
sin
sin
sin.

Cotovelos

Tapa bem os braços
Não deixes que os teus cotovelos
se mostrem.

É isto o que os meus vizinhos
dizem lá pra baixo, em Alabama,
às suas filhas
para que nenhum cotovelo
roliço ou magro
moreno ou rosado
possa atrair alguém
até à paixão.

No entanto, se eu imaginasse
que os meus flácidos, bicolores
cotovelos te iriam seduzir

se eu imaginasse
que os meus  secos, ossudos
cotovelos te poderiam prender

agitava os meus braços
como um galo
como um pavão real
como uma galinha-da-índia

quando te voltar a ver
amor
arregaço
as mangas e vou
pecar
pecar
pecar.

poema original e versão em castelhano aqui