Burn The Losses
poetry
Antonio Gamoneda
Action Books, 2025
Memory never has enough time. I finish reading Antonio Gamoneda’s Burn The Losses, so noiselessly translated by Katherine M. Hedeen and Victor Rodríguez Núñez, and call a toast, then, to the brain of oxygen. With backstories seemingly visible to amnesiacs only, Gamoneda’s verse addresses the trivial recollections of our most urgent forgettings and de-creates in a more discreet afterlife a body plotting its revenge on any new constant restlessness. The skin is a flooded sorrow and the body agony’s breathing box. To swallow this, you’d have to believe the egg never went off and that the sadly chewed piece of gum in its yellow was real. Starve your disbelief. Starve mine. Let childhood burn me like a horse. Let this work, for what it strips from repetition, echo.
kingsoftrain 
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