se bastasse...
A Vladmir Mayakowsky com carinho
Volodya, volodya,
a cloud in your trousers
i could have been
in nineteen fifteen.
At the top of your beauty
twenty-two
more delirious than malaria
you would break me into
But perhaps
your toothless smile
would take me a while
Eight, nine, ten
and then your
eternally yours!
a cloud in your trousers
i could have been
in nineteen fifteen.
At the top of your beauty
twenty-two
more delirious than malaria
you would break me into
But perhaps
your toothless smile
would take me a while
Eight, nine, ten
and then your
eternally yours!
A Baía pútrida-plástico remontando-se no bloco de pedra, nas velas brancas de optimist que ventam lentas contra mim; e os gatos todos rotos lambendo-se à sua beira. Do outro lado a Urca fluida. Todos os seus buracos que não vejo daqui desalentam o correr frenético dos carros. Um homem da Baixada foi nadar lá e saltou das pedras. Estilhaçou a cabeça até a morte na ferrugem de um fogão abandonado.
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