Alms By Idea Vilariño

Her poems speak with such passion and animation, all with unyielding commitment.

Idea Vilariño was born in Montevideo, Uruguay, and had a lineup of talented people in her family.

Her mother was well fitted in European literature as well as having a father who was a poet along with a few siblings who developed the same gift.

When I read this poem, I couldn't believe how powerful it was. I visualize in my head a fantasy. A moment where she sat there and wrote this poem. Her subtle plea that still oozes with violence and grace as she gently makes her pencil caress the paper she uses to express such harmony, coordinated with rhythm and suave.

Alms by Idea Vilariño

Open the hand and give me
the sweet sweet crumb
as if a god as if the wind
as if the burning dew
as if never
hear
open the hand and give me
the sweet dirty crumb
or give me perhaps the tender
heart that sustains you.
Not the skin or the disordered
hair or the breath
or the saliva or
everything that slips unconnected
past the skin.
No if it is possible
if you hear
if you are here if I am someone
if it is not an illusion
a crazy lens
a grim mockery
open the hand and give me
the dirty dirty crumb
as if a god as if the wind
as if the hand that opens
that distracts destiny
were granting us a day.

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/03/05/alms