¿Cómo escribir poemas? Analizamos la forma poética para ver qué encontramos

Poems by Sabrina Benaim translated by Anabell Anzorena Suárez, from the book Depression and Other Magic Tricks Magic Trick 001 The girl lets herself go. She is the sugar cube, love is the teacup - she dissolves, faster than you could think. The loneliest sweet potato I'm at the supermarket because I feel sad. I feel sad because no one is in love with me. No one is in love with me, but everyone loves me. Everyone loves me because I'm good at making them feel good. I'm good at making them feel good because I've had a lot of practice with myself. I practice with myself because I'm sad so often. I feel sad so often, but when I make someone feel good, I feel good for a little while. I feel good for a little while, until I feel alone. I feel alone and I get uncomfortable with my loneliness. At the grocery store, I try to make myself feel good by pretending to be a regular person shopping and not a very sad person, trying to distract myself from crying. Crying gives me a migraine. Migraines make me want to crawl into bed. Crawling into bed is what sad people do. What sad people do when they're lonely is a lot like me at the grocery store. At the grocery store, I feel sad, but I look at the people while I choose an avocado or lemons, things that no one thinks of when they think of comfort food. Comfort food makes me want to crawl into bed. Crawling into bed reminds me of two things: I'm sad, and I'm alone. I'm alone at the grocery store, moving slowly through the condiments aisle. Important decisions are made in the condiments aisle, and everyone knows that it's perfectly acceptable to stare for too long. I stand there staring for a while and then start tap-dancing. Tap dancing in the condiment aisle is a great title for a book, I think, as I stand in line at the checkout. The cashier seems surprised when I ask how her night is going. Her night is going okay, she says. She doesn't say anything else, except "Cash, credit, or debit?" She waves me off. "Goodbye" is the saddest word I know. The saddest word you know is my name. My name walks around the supermarket and feels less sad. Less sad, because at least in the supermarket, no one knows that anyone is in love with me. Poem by Tamara Tenembaum, from the book "Reconocimiento de tierra" (Recognition of terrain), Buenos Aires, Pánico el pánico, 2017 Living like this Every night when I shower I leave a pair of panties (the ones I wore) freshly washed with soap hanging on the faucet. He who bathes in the morning never remembers to take it out and leaves it there to soak completely while he showers. For now, we like living like this. #poetry #poetry #poets #creativewriting #writing #booktube #booktok #books #books #poems Virtual Group Poetry Workshop A workshop to explore the scope of the poetic word through the reading and analysis of various contemporary Argentine authors. We will also explore the writing and analysis of our own poems. No previous experience is required. Every Tuesday from 7 to 9 p.m. (virtual, via Google Meet) Starting Tuesday, October 7th. Seats are limited, reserve your spot! You can contact me on my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/micakessler... or by email: [email protected] Virtual Individual Work Clinic To work on a book project. Aimed at people who already have something written and need to finalize their work. Meetings are one hour long, with a date and time to be agreed upon. For questions, you can contact me on my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/micakessler... or by email: [email protected]