Ariel Riveros Pavez

Ariel Riveros Pavez

  • The Shipyard

    The night harboursblinks with electricityto nerve the port headand lighthouse eyeevery bone is a shipthe skeleton fleetmooring to journey of bodyin the coming morning the night harboursghostreadingsthat steal away to dancehallssailor to shorewalker to dancehall dancertreading boards on the pierthe sun… Continue reading

  • Soap Opera

    Singing I heard from a few showers from the apartment well the showers ran as a small ensemble to the troupe each discrete melody perceivable I heard every drop on the tiles making time signatures like the sound of a… Continue reading

  • The Mission Orphees

    I Jolly Roger –stowaway walks the plank and becomes the hanged man upside down, drowned  in the water The captain knows I have spied the map and that I am a blabber mouth he keeps me holed up in the… Continue reading

  • For Someone in General

    I imagined you walking next to me on a night nearly idyllic but for the absence of you you, colourful lion on a bicycle You, mare on an escalator You, idea on a jinxed plane That you exist is beyond… Continue reading

  • The Information

    A calculator of cans and string Looped on a roll of paper Frozen in ink A surface mechanism Whose depth paperwise is 6 or 16 sheets behind or 22 or 4 or 2 pages ahead She is a piece of… Continue reading

  • Archioptic

    A window and its frame blinks observes states, events and figures It views us its walls and building examine us as jeweler to the gem the flaws run A window and its frame sees us clearly as oxygen is breathed… Continue reading

  • When Slavoj Zizek Died on Stage

    There wasn’t a doctor in the house or Mary Mary quite contrary to chuckle at the obligation to correct excess and the recitatives of mucus arias of perspiration and the shabby chic of the germinal embed of negation as difference… Continue reading

  • Five Easy Venoms

    I Sleeping till the sex has completely left me the minutes turn to hours days incestuous as ants The tick of a second rolls over like a machine that makes hot headaches the change of time scalps peace II waiting… Continue reading

  • Poem 3 of The Gamut

    (Small) In a wide flat field a porcelain cup with a crack on the lip where a blade of grass peeps through from a fold at the end of the blade and the crease is at a slight angle three… Continue reading

  • Poem 2 for The Gamut

    From a commission by Gilbert Grace artist and convenor of The Gamut social change project (link to The Gamut’s blog) – this is the second poem in the poetic tryptych. The second poem is meant for viva voce – spoken word… Continue reading