Sketch in the Sand
A poem by Oliverio Girondo
The morning strolls along the beach dusted with sun.
Floating rubber heads.
Tossing the bodies of the bathers, the waves spread their shavings along the sawdust beach.
Everything is blue and gold!
The shade of the cabanas. The eyes of girls who inject themselves with novels and horizons. My joy, in rubber-soled shoes, that makes me bounce along the sand. For eighty cents, photographers sell the bodies of the bathing women.
There are kiosks that exploit the drama of the coast. Moody servant girls. Irascible soda water, with a hint of brine. Rocks with the seaweed breast of a sailor and the painted heart of a fencer. Flocks of seagulls that mimic the weary flight of a scrap of paper.
And above all, the sea!
The sea! Rhythm of digression. The sea! with its spittle and its epilepsy.
The sea! . . . until you scream
like at the circus.
See more on the Beach
“I have a preference for introverted people because I feel an affinity with them and therefore I can look at them longer than I do at exuberant people, who are very much focused on their surroundings. I like a particular kind of face, very classical and therefore timeless – the girl in the green swim suit in Kolobrzeg, for example. It’s about a particular kind of beauty that other people might find ugly, but it’s a kind of ugliness that I find beautiful.”
(Quoted in Rineke Dijkstra 1997, [p.38].)