Jake Goetz
Nueve horas del sol
branches silhouette in sky’s soft grey blue headlights of yellow and red like coloured pencils tracing the winding winter roads two men in wind-breakers pants and sneakers hold the day’s first warm-promise in their pockets at their feet an imagined futbol is kicked
*
in the east factories sand-papered houses and his first real attempt sponging a red against cloud an old ute full of coca-cola sits in the outskirts of the town land spread like vegemite on bread reaching for the furthest extremity the child’s mouth the window fogs hazing perception as in a Monet i wipe the window with the curtain to the west the Andean foothills reveal themselves in cloud leaving only snow-capped tops soft berets adorning Mendoza’s floating heads
*
he reveals his head sudden then shoulders chest orange adorned saturated effects enhanced he enters not knowing why not caring while for years we’ve enquired about his daily appointments discontent with just a succession his legs his feet his entirety now shades of yellow and green shrubs across dry-flat plain dilapidated houses without doors electric wires like veins stretch and the road a dividing line he must cross to find the mountains
*
two old men sit against a wall their rugged packs like face above worn coats and an empty wooden crate two black dogs assess each other in the street of shops just passing through he glares behind a thin blanket of white dissipating to deep blue then rolling hills of sand cracked earth reggaton played on a phone a woman sits in the shade of an olive tree while two men push a broken down Ford from the road a phone rings the same tone as mine back home and home it wasn’t a choice this blonde hair blue eyes to be born into a resource rich country raised by the concept of western capitalism at the hands of the exploitation and inequality of other places but i wear this see this in the eyes of the Argentine man staring threatened or threatening or my anxiety rearing up like an altschmerz the day reverting back to the self narcissism and pessimism stopping ten or so wild horses brown white black run across the road kicking up dust he hangs completely ripe above glares the bottom of mountains adds shading to the distinctness of their uralt formation
*
river beds dried out by systematic chance hear ‘to stand among the ones that live in lonely indecision’ then again mountain obsessed postcard silhouettes as he moves past Chile and into the Pacific houses and shops appear in fifteen minutes arriving in La Rioja
Jake Goetz is a poet from Sydney. He is currently working on a book of poems through the ASA’s mentorship program. He also works as a picture framer.
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Nueve horas del sol
branches silhouette in sky’s soft grey blue headlights of yellow and red like coloured pencils tracing the winding winter roads two men in wind-breakers pants and sneakers hold the day’s first warm-promise in their pockets at their feet an imagined futbol is kicked
*
in the east factories sand-papered houses and his first real attempt sponging a red against cloud an old ute full of coca-cola sits in the outskirts of the town land spread like vegemite on bread reaching for the furthest extremity the child’s mouth the window fogs hazing perception as in a Monet i wipe the window with the curtain to the west the Andean foothills reveal themselves in cloud leaving only snow-capped tops soft berets adorning Mendoza’s floating heads
*
he reveals his head sudden then shoulders chest orange adorned saturated effects enhanced he enters not knowing why not caring while for years we’ve enquired about his daily appointments discontent with just a succession his legs his feet his entirety now shades of yellow and green shrubs across dry-flat plain dilapidated houses without doors electric wires like veins stretch and the road a dividing line he must cross to find the mountains
*
two old men sit against a wall their rugged packs like face above worn coats and an empty wooden crate two black dogs assess each other in the street of shops just passing through he glares behind a thin blanket of white dissipating to deep blue then rolling hills of sand cracked earth reggaton played on a phone a woman sits in the shade of an olive tree while two men push a broken down Ford from the road a phone rings the same tone as mine back home and home it wasn’t a choice this blonde hair blue eyes to be born into a resource rich country raised by the concept of western capitalism at the hands of the exploitation and inequality of other places but i wear this see this in the eyes of the Argentine man staring threatened or threatening or my anxiety rearing up like an altschmerz the day reverting back to the self narcissism and pessimism stopping ten or so wild horses brown white black run across the road kicking up dust he hangs completely ripe above glares the bottom of mountains adds shading to the distinctness of their uralt formation
*
river beds dried out by systematic chance hear ‘to stand among the ones that live in lonely indecision’ then again mountain obsessed postcard silhouettes as he moves past Chile and into the Pacific houses and shops appear in fifteen minutes arriving in La Rioja
Jake Goetz is a poet from Sydney. He is currently working on a book of poems through the ASA’s mentorship program. He also works as a picture framer.
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