Regresso

Começa assim,

com as minhas mil mortes e mais uma

entre chocolates e cravos caídos,

o fim de outro mundo perdido em tantos

sem tempo para prantos nem lembranças.

Mas no momento de apertar a tua mão pálida

a tremer gemidos de ressurreição

quis a razão ou a esperança

que eu fosse engolida sem perdão

e fizesse das minhas mágoas prazeres.

Passeio o cadáver pela cidade,

agora necrópole crepitante

descarnando a cada passo

a agonia balbuciante

da saudade do teu abraço.

Levo ainda no regaço aconchegado

o cheiro a cabelo suado

que me deixaste nos lençóis

e os teus olhos feitos faróis

fixos na catarse do reencontro

humedecidos pelo luto iminente.

E afogo

nas águas escuras da ambivalência

a minha preferência pelo desvario

e a inevitabilidade da revolução

com o sufoco na garganta

de quem não canta por embaraço

e se enrola vezes sem fim

nas ondas frias da dormência e do cansaço

espumando a minha perpétua insatisfação.

Untitled (Denmark)

Opening: “tyranny leaves the body free and directs its attack at the soul. The ruler no longer says: You must think as I do or die. He says: You are free not to think as I do; your life, your property, everything shall remain yours, but from this day on you are a stranger among us.” Alexis de Tocqueville

There used to be a time

When I was naïve as to believe

That words and rhymes

And glasses of over-priced wine

Could make me one of you.

But the failure at integration

Ruined the delicacy of that moment

And as my frustration rose to the ceiling

So did my appetite for destruction.

So tell me

Can your mouth also taste the blood of innocents

when you do us the diligence of waving your flag in our faces

and present us endless mazes mystifying your mundane?

Can you also feel our desperate pain

When you strip us to the bone

And turn us into naked canvas for your twisted little games?

You should be proud, you did the system good

And the loud ghosts of what we used to be,

Ripped from our bodies like our childhood

with gentle melodies about losses and gains unkept,

Will never again attempt happiness beyond contempt.

And you continue to charm us all

With your timeless pretty pieces

about loves you used to have

asking the same metaphysical questions

and begging for redemption with overused vane lines

in a masturbatory circus

spreading meaningless fungus like toxic lice,

jumping from head to head

not thinking twice about the self-indulging pettiness

of your ill-fitted disguise.

But vanilla candles cannot hide

the sick smell of soulless poems

like inorganic rancid corpses

decomposing under the sun of your lovely Danish porches.

When you instruct me in your wisdom,

and seduce me with your boredom

Go beyond the rain and the spring flowers

and tell me more about the hours

spent by overdosing clones

riding gaily in monochrome.

Tell me about your synthetic happiness of pills and booze

or how you think we are all over-sensitive crooks;

How my love is OCD and my passion is anxiety

and how there’s no space in your society

for anything but your fake smiles and sarcasm.

But I will scream and I will spasm

Until I am a person again.