Sylvia Death

Quando meteu a cabeça no forno de gaz
como um leão caindo sobre a presa
todos os poemas estavam prontos
dirigidos
para a morte sobre a mesa
Ela fê-lo de novo, e de novo
toda a manhã escureceu
a sua pele brilhante e o cabelo
como um sol loiro.


SYLVIA DEATH

When she put its head in the oven of gas
as a lion that falls on its prey
all poems were already
directed
to die on the table
She did so again, and again
through the morning dark
the shiny skin and Sylvia's hair
as a sun blond.

October 15, 2008

Charlie Parker

The ghost of Bebop
from 52nd Street,
left footprints in the snow.
A Cab passed, in the yellowish night,
a drunk volatile
with a goose-step, almost
gave a kick in the stars.
Slid under the door
of the Three Deuces the blues.
The street was a cold mirror
when it rains, now remember
a mantle of ermine
the lap of Lady Day.

2008

JTParreira

Obituary

Fernando Pessoa died

in the Bairro Alto, he put glasses on the table

for ever, three days

before was still seen to bend

a corner downtown Lisbon

laughs loose, a cough

to bend the body forward.

2008