Apologies

To Our Latina/o Readers,
First of all, my apologies that this piece offended you. It was not intended to. Rather, it was meant to bring some of the simmering comments up from below the fold. Also, it was meant to highlight the fact that the Spanish language was absent from this site, something I learned from all of you. And thirdly, it was meant really as a self-effacing comment regarding my -- and most American's -- sad fact that many only speak only one language. It obviously didn't fly and once again, I apologize.
I use this chunk of text when I read in countries where English is not the first language. And I read the text in the native language of that country. I always make a fool of myself, which, as implied by the text is my intention. I stumble over words, mangle sentences. It gets to the point in most places where it is simply unintelligible, particularly in countries where the language is very different from English (Helsinki was a disaster!). The result is a cultural breaking of the ice, a debunkment of American linguistic Imperialistic tendencies -- most of which are almost never addressed in such situations (when was the last time an American poet apologized for speaking English in a foreign country before a reading? It never happens. Instead the reading takes place in English). I have read this piece in English in front of the entire MLA during this year's Presidential Forum.
It's a great piece when spoken; now I see that the point is lost when written.
The situation of non-understanding is something I use as a positive trope. I try to treat English in my work as a foreign language, hence the "utopian state we find ourselves in right now." Here is the way the paragraph reads normally for a reading:

I am an American poet, and like most Americans, I speak only one language. When asked to read in Stockholm, I figured that the last thing Sweden (or the rest of the world) needed was more imported American culture--in English--no less (remember the Clash's "I'm So Bored With The U.S.A."?). Hence, I've decided to start my reading in Swedish, a language that I have never spoken nor written.
Most likely, you can't understand a word I'm saying, even though it's your native language. So, we're even: We're both in a situation of not understanding. All we can possibly do is listen to the way that the words sound instead of what they mean. And by doing so we are all entering into a new relationship to language that permits us to reframe the mundane in the language of the mundane.
For years, I've been working toward a situation like the one we find ourselves in now: one where language is purely formal and concrete; like language itself, this talk is both meaningful and meaningless at the same time. The air is now thick with sound posing as language.
I could continue and do the whole reading in Swedish but I think you get the point. Now I'll do the rest of the reading in English, but after this rough beginning, you can better understand what I'm trying to do with my work in my native language: to approximate the utopian situation we find ourselves in at the moment, one of willful ignorance.

Thank you for your understanding and again, please accept my apologies.
-- Kenneth
By the way, I love Rich's idea of retyping Neruda's Canto General!