published in Spanish in Oostende (Paripé books, Madrid/Buenos Aires 2023).

translated to English by the author.

‍Vuelvo en Tren 

I return to Brussels by train. The jacket, the winter, and the boots, the jeans and the headphones make me feel bigger. I have objects! I listen to Terry Riley, trying to feel good, with Terry Riley's album 'Sun Rings', the train moves forward and I wonder, where will this orientation take me?

***

A concert in the Belgian countryside, the singing of the faithful, mystics, brewing beer, potions, singing with several voices at the same time, stone walls, winter. In the stove, warm, a scorpion nests, I walk down the street, so freshly cobblestoned, it shines.

In which direction am I going? Am I heading to the bar? To sit on tram 81 and keep writing until I reach Uccle? Or home, hesitantly. Will I be alone? Can I continue with Terry Riley, with the monks singing and this slip, ah! the winter, the wind, the cold floor, the house! The handwritten letter! The experience! Writing!

I climb the hill of Saint-Gilles, turn at the laundry, the dog, yes! greets me at the door, my house. A decoration of beach shells in the bathroom, undone. The dog, wrinkles and then straightens the carpet. With his nose, he nudges me, disarranges the carpet, which he promptly fixes.

I have objects! The new microphone, the clarinet, I leave penance behind, I allow myself objects, the monks celebrate, prepare a feast, and sing. I allow myself solid, non-perishable gifts. Some decoration, but still the beach shells unpasted, the art framed in standard frames. But the microphone! The headphones! My new boots! How warm! What good sound, what solid materials, non-perishable. I accept the gifts, solid, anchoring me in exile. Still, I travel, I go to Mexico, I go to Tucson, I go to France, how much I spend, what fluidity of ink, I sign checks, practice my signature, write in cursive, how baroque!

***

The ground floor with an internal patio, first without furniture, without space, just a roll of tips and a Banco Rio card for photocopies, so many houses without furniture, without objects! all perishable! My sister taking a nap on my wicker chair, perishable. What vanity, and my new living room, my new house, empty, the men now children, no longer with a car, now in rooms, asking for forgiveness, offending, how confused I am, angry

Second time I choose an orientation. Where will it take me this time? The first gave me a dinner outside, a good restaurant, white tablecloth, just the three of us, like we've never been before, dad, mom, and me, without omnipresent sisters, I so happy with my orientation, the feeling of being invited, the history, the restaurant, with brick walls, white linings, wooden furniture, and they curious and pragmatic creatures, and me, with my orientation, now confusedly martial, Mars invaded me, the combat, oh! the food so rich, the men and their cars and the history, oh! Walking in this winter, which I no longer feel, anesthetized, by the music, my steps echoing in the headphones, even if they are expensive. The clouds, how crazy! I look up, I see the clouds, how fast they move! in front of the moon, in fast motion. I took the right path, the one that passes through the Parvis, the bars already closing. In the reflection, I see myself fat, it's the jacket, the jeans, the dog pulling me, the clouds keep passing quickly quickly quickly fiummm fiummm some archi mega semi sixteenth notes fast fast fast. I have no choice but to be martial, I am, and I fight and suffer and escape and drug myself and travel and no one understands me and I travel by bus to the train station and by train to the city by bus to the university I wait in line I buy photocopies and burnt coffee with my new friends we hide a past we study history we invent memories the classes the political discussions the certainty of always being at the right point of progressivism and Peronism, just for those who study history, not literature, not philosophy!

The house is too small for me, my boss's eyes tell me: we'll miss you, and there's a new house, empty, without furniture, wicker, perishable, inadvertently, a child I invited peed on my friend's towel! We laughed, put on a strong-smelling cream, put all the clothes and sheets in a plastic bag for two weeks.