Antarctica

“My Apple”, “Volcanoes in Antarctica” and “Garden”

In Poetry by Luciana Erregue-Sacchi

My Apple

My apple, want a bite?

Let it roll down my

Hilly green lawn,

Who knows where it may stop?


With all the other

Fallen ones… feasibly rotten

Otherwise

In Saxony, 1508,

Where Lucas Cranach’s

Eve,

Stands, unrepentant

Venus Pudica,

Shame separating her

From her Luther loving Adam

Already absolved from sin


By the tree,

Yes, that one

You see in my selfie,

Edmonton, 2017

Who knows where it may stop?


Between two realms,

Warped wood boards

Where warped old Cranach

Still plays God

His Adam pointing right,

Frenzied gaze trespassing

The bark of the apple tree, to reach for Her


And her breasts, already rotten, hilly,

On the other side of knowledge,

Wary of the snake

Who coolly eyes their turmoil

As that of others

That will bite

From yet another apple

Who knows where it may stop?


Our state cannot be severed; we are one,

Said Milton, once…

My apple, want a bite?

Image

Volcanoes in Antarctica

We never knew they existed

Until now,

Volcanoes,

Tall as Mount Eiger,

Furrowed memories

Buried kilometers deep

Under the ice

They lie


Erupting perhaps tomorrow or today

Or in two hundred years

Unsettling

Time

Counted in dismembered ice sheets

Memories?

Deep inside

West Antarctica,


Where stoic Sea star

Odontaster validus,

Of McMurdo Sound,

Female,

Awaits

To inescapably birth,

Pink dorsal plate opening,

Volcanic,

Gushing

Amniotic

Antarctic water


Furrowed memories,

Two hundred years old

Expel sailors

Cocooned in healing lava,

Gliding by the route Sir John Cook

Traced on sea foam

Of ultramarine blue

Frigid waters,

Clipper routes, carved between glaciers

Sped up travel from West to East,

Knowing sailing East to West

Was impossible

As volcanoes


In Antarctica

Garden

My garden is a map of my brain,

Cobalt, cadmium, coral, kidney shaped

Axons and dendrites

Trespassing, dismantling, each other

Without my blessing

Yet,

My neighbors, locust pest,

Ancient plague,

Admire, complimenting, even

“Its creative layout, its helter-skelter beauty”

My garden is a map of my brain,

And I hate weeding,

Who doesn’t?

About the Author

Luciana Erregue-Sacchi

Website

Luciana Erregue-Sacchi is a Canadian-Argentinian bilingual poet. I hold a Master’s in Art History from the University of Alberta (2016). My areas of interest include the politics of canon formation, official portraiture of the Americas, the politics of museum display, and performances of spectatorship. Prior to my graduate work, I studied Law in my native Argentina and was a bilingual art educator at the AGA between the years 2004-2005 and 2010-2012.

My published poems include My Prisons/Mis Prisiones (The Polyglot); The Embroiderer from Harrods, Argentina/La bordadora de Harrods, Argentina (La Rabia del Axolotl); my poem Corset will be published in the upcoming Stroll of Poets Anthology. My poetry addresses the connection between art and memory.

I am currently working on a multidisciplinary poetry project with Anna Marie Sewell.