My Brother’s Hands

My brother used to work as an architect,
he had to quit his job after his first child was born.
The company wasn’t paying him much.

When my niece was born my brother asked for a raise.
It was useless.
That’s when he made up his mind.

Soon after quitting, my brother established a carpentry workshop.
Now, he makes furniture for a living; he is very good at it,
but for every desk or chair or table he has built
my brother has a bruise, a cut, a scar.
Now his hands are full of scars.

He often operates dangerous saws,
sharp razors that rotate frantically
in between his bare hands.
I often fear that he could lose a finger.
I don’t know why,
but this idea terrifies me.

I am a doctor in comparative literature.
Even if the title is glamorous,
there isn’t much you can do with it,
especially not in this economy.
So, since I am unemployed,
I sometimes help my brother in the workshop.

Sometimes, when I am helping him,
I get little cuts in my hands
or tiny bruises under my fingernails.
But my hands will never look like my brother’s hands;
his are scarred but strong,
mine are pale and useless.

I write essays, short stories and poems,
He builds solid and beautiful structures.
My hands write emails with an attached C.V.
With his hands, my brother supports his wife
and their two daughters.

No, I will never be like him,
not even if I tried.
My brother thinks that I’m smart,
I say that’s up for debate.
And even though I don’t believe in much,
I believe in my brother’s hands;
in everything they do,
and in everything they represent.

Juan David Cruz-Duarte was born in Bogotá, Colombia. In 2018 he earned a doctorate in Comparative Literature from the University of South Carolina. He has been published in Jasper and other local poetry projects. His poetry and fiction have appeared in Axxón, El Axioma, Five:2:One, Fall Lines, Blue Collar Review, the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Relatos Increíbles, Máquina Combinatoria, Entropía, Espejo Humeante, and Escarabeo, among others. His academic work has been published in Fafnir, Variaciones Borges and Divergencias. He is the author of the collection of short stories Dream a little dream of me: cuentos siniestros, the novel La noche del fin del mundo, and the poetry collection Léase después de mi muerte (Poemas 2005–2017). Juan is also a political cartoonist; his cartoons can be found in Las 2 Orillas. He currently lives in Bogotá.