The Works of Mario Ariza

Mario Alejandro Ariza is a master's student in Hispanic Cultural Studies at Columbia University. His economy grew by 10.3% last year. 


All Poems © Mario Ariza

Commute

This old song of Indolence?
It stops the shifting arc
of light beyond - beyond
the point of pleasure.
Gesundheit.

The crush of people on the 6 train
all sing the strangest song;
It slowly chokes off every inch of space.
I forget my handkerchief
And use my sleeve to wipe my face.

 I am a necessary
Un necio, nunca, nada, nothing.
I am a necessary but not a necessity.
I pick my nose with uncommon violence,

No one says anything.
Senescence. Somnolent morning
Spent trying not to fall asleep
In this, the subway car.
            People with children
            With homes.
            Husbands

Who watch the hours pass
Without metaphor.



Huechalafquen


My Dear Ken, Remember the freezing night
We spent inside your dirty orange tent?
Wood wet, we failed to get a fire lit
Shivering shore-less on that alpine lake.
Or our mad dash to Neoquen? Money out,
twenty-seven hungry hours on a bus
That swayed as we both read The Fountainhead.
Slowly, we climbed towards far Bariloche
and beyond, just to see how some southern stars
were by the toothsome  jagged Andes bent.
Our trail back to Buenos Aires was too long -
We begged with the dogs in Bahia,
Caught night trains with winter white Trotskyites
And returned to the city so cynical.



She-Bop-Shema


A city sucks up rivers as it grows and I oppose to nothing the experience of poetry.
Each temple gets destroyed without a trace. It’s like the special solitude of Sophoclean heroes the advent of infinitesimal calculus or the accurate prediction of eclipses. Let’s talk informal principals.
                Don’t tell anyone but,
                There’s a run in the pantyhose.
                It points straight to your pussy.
                Can you name all the Niobids?  


That’s right, I oppose to nothing
Nacreous Nothing
And boast of my progeny and chase the hair with the ox
and swim against the torrent.


I will perish quickly from the good land that the lord gave me.