I AM MY NIGHTMARE MIRROR

[BR/ENG] spoils    A pain in my back    A bruised lip    A spike I tore out of a bra with my own teeth    A new friend    Maybe two    An autograph from the city’s worst tagger    A hangover that will last for days    An absurdist new love    A desire to write another manifesto on the trans day of revenge   [Up the establishment, I guess Up my anarchy tattoo’s value Screaming into a mic it’s sunrise we’re moved only by rage]   *** elbow to my jaw better than a dentist   *** Nirvana tribute at the Underground Thousands of dollars in damages    *a fridge    *five coffins    *a mic broken in half    *loss of blood and teeth    *numerous limbs    *a cracked skull   *** “the men that proud themselves in getting a girl’s dick hard” ***    Old man rasta    shook hands and told stories    chan...

Memories can be so faulty When you are drunk all the time Month-long trip feels like it never happened What am I doing with my life? Booze and molly Snorting ashes of the deceased Throwing up bloody foam into the toilet What good is  this life? Pluck out the party stopper Let’s pee on somebody’s porch Rain terror upon this land Let us pull our brains out Kill the first breathing thing we see Break lamps and church windows Suck each other off in the middle of the street I don’t owe this place two fucks You shouldn’t either So, let’s seize the night Only the sun can stop us now But before then Our throats will be wide open   *** paracetamol cup noodles cachaça hoje tem   ***    A walk in the park    Dog socializes more than me    with the grumpy-looking men    sitting alone    on uncomfortable wooden benches   ***     “yeah, vivian, you ate two full plates of food” vivian said to herself   *** I...

[ENG/PT] Today a passenger plane was taken down by its country’s air force No one will be able to speak on the matter Civilians roaming the immediate area are shot and killed by the jets You know I’m crazy, it’s just a movie It’s a dirty cover up When did their technology become so advanced? How are we so hopeless? I watch the world collapse as I curl up and die We’re all going to hell   *** brave the night the night riders   on the lit window a naked woman smokes   the engine growls the blues cries   shedding no tears two hollow chests   no desbravar da noite cavaleiros soturnos   busto nu de mulher o fumar na janela   o grunhido do motor o choro do blues   não se derrama uma lágrima são dois peitos ocos   ***    Waiting, waiting, waiting    Waiting some more    What an asshole, making me wait    What an asshole, ignoring friends    What a bum this world of constant communication   ...

  [ENG/PT]    Taking pictures of people at the bus stop, this girl on the other side of the street notices and smiles in my direction; waves, calls my attention, gestures a photo-snapping, wants a picture, I take the picture. Now comes the philosophy of the situation.    If I never truly wanted to take that picture, why did I do it, and what should I make of it? Why make a big deal out of it, also?, why should it ever matter? Maybe because the idea of deleting it came to mind. You see, I thought to cause an effect like Schrödinger's cat, of an existence/non-existence of this picture and the possible supposed uncertainty in the head of that girl before, during and after that moment.    On the other hand, what would make someone want and ask for their picture to be taken by a stranger? What would this person want me to do with it? Does she expect me to just accept it? As a gift? A gift of her image to me? Does she only like pictures and wished to be...

[ENG/PT]     Black and white kitty cat    Closed eyes, little loaf    Couldn’t stand the chilling strike of nights or endure the odorless hunger of days    Died in his sleep    Closed eyes, little loaf    Black and white kitty cat   rotting stench of death buzzing necrophages feast noiseful silence of the woods cyclical inexorable fate   *** The barbed wire they put up after the cameras captured us jumping over the wall to steal seemingly nothing is still as loose as we left it to jump over the wall again and steal gardenias   ***    Arrived before the ants    gave him a proper christian burial    Baby bird inside a tupperware coffin    god’s child, friend of the family    The brave little Otto Braun   ***     “want to hear all that and not feel anything; I want you to profess your love for me, give me all there is inside your heart, and feel n...

[ENG/PT] I love to drink chamomile tea and watch all those little tubby things swimming around inside the cup It’s a cocktail of bacteria   *** JOVENS     —Rapaz, lá me ofereceram chá no copinho de requeijão.     —É mesmo? No copinho de requeijão?     —No copinho de requeijão...   ***    There were five gunshots    PAH! PAH! PAH!    PAH! A pause. PAH!    Ten minutes later    The sound of an ambulance   ***    Laying on dead grass, evening rolls out,    I discover the true nature of street lights    As fairies of white hot stars, molten by their cores   *** Blood-shot eyes, reeking of cheap alcohol Grinding teeth and foaming like a mad dog Why are you clenching your fists at me, asshole? Are you not afraid to die?   ***    Today a mad man looked me in the eyes and shouted:     “LATINA!” and I smiled, happy    A...

  [ENG/PT]    Lonely bench overlooked by the passerby    This, a testament to city life    Fast, solitary, always in a hurry    So much to do, to see    So little time for trivialities    For the quick mistake of sitting down for a minute or two    Take in the air, realize the imperfection    Feel bad for what it’s worth    In comparison to that moment in living    Epiphany to change a life    This act of triviality   ***    She was trying to muffle her sobbing    Under the yellow spotlight of a street lamp    Castaway from the fervorous party inside the pub      When I finished my sobering walk around the block    She wasn’t there anymore    Only the memory of her sorrow stayed   ***    The dark figure stood still    like a statue, on display    Unde...

[PT only]      Estes são alguns experimentos em improviso e crônica, inspirado nos trabalhos de Rogério Menezes para o Correio Braziliense. ***    Rogério, 37, é morador de bairro pobre nos confins da cidade. Pega ônibus todo dia para trabalhar no quiosque que a prefeita deu. De noite trabalha como guarda noturno. Toda quarta se senta num boteco qualquer e bebe até apagar; dia de folga, mas teme parar em casa. Teme ver o filho doente sobre a cama, e a esposa de rosto como que congelado numa única expressão de angústia —sofredora estátua de sal do dedicado Lot—, assentada assim todos os dias ao lado do menino rosa, em carne viva.    Rogério não sabe do futuro, não quer saber do futuro, e afoga as mágoas em infindáveis horas de trabalho para se sentir útil, sentir-se capaz de influenciar a vida de qualquer um, mesmo que da menor forma possível[...] ***      O aniversário de Lúcia, 33, é em uma semana. Os colegas de trabalho ...