I had three plants
that died and
I still haven’t thrown them out
I’m not sure how to have a funeral for
It doesn’t make me sad, it’s just
like most of my relationships
when they die
I keep seeing people in the street
who in some way seem like new opportunities
and I guess as long as I keep living
the same way
in all the gardens of the world
there will still be plants
I saw Juan the other day and we talked
my grandmother, they used to say, spoke with the dead
so this shouldn’t seem so strange to me
these things are inherited and I guess
there’s something malevolent too
in the neglect of love and plants.
Love, for me, has always been like the plants
that I let die because I forget to water them
or because I’m too busy
or because I’m convinced that they don’t need me
because nature is wise
I’m not proud of what happened with the plants
or the other stuff either, I’m not sadistic
no matter how much people seem like new opportunities
and no matter how much I kill relationships and plants
I had three plants like that night I had Juan–
who isn’t around anymore, but sometimes still speaks to me.
Malén Denis is 23. She lives in Belgrano, Buenos Aires, Argentina with her cat and her bicycle. She studied photography and quit, then TV production which she finished. She worked for awhile in television, but now studies Literature. Thus far she has published one book of poetry, Con una remera de Sonic Youth. In 2011, she participated in the Poetry and Music section of the Ciudad Emergente arts festival.
This poem was translated collectively by Anna Kazumi Stahl’s Fall 2012 creative writing class at NYU Buenos Aires. I thank them very much for their contribution.