The wi-fi password


ok, i’ll wait until you’ve told me
the wi-fi password at your apartment
so small and charming
like an early 20th century garçoniére in New York City or Paris

no need to hurry, i’m here it’s all good
except parts of me needed to be elsewhere

(oh if i had even the least bit of self-preservation in my bones but i guess we’re lucky i don’t, sometimes)

my best friends are all moving to the big city.
i dream california in a small town where i’ll grow tomatoes
occasionally watch the sun set on the pacific
not much else i’d like to accomplish
other than making it past my 50s and not become a more eccentric version
of grandmother
every woman who’s ever been unhappy
shunned for lack of manners
fired from womanness
no severance check

yes, i’d very much like to know
the password to the wi-fi at your lovely apartment, my love
to shout from the rooftops I’M HERE AT LAST
and it’s lovely
with its view to majestic trees and an eerie airs,
almost like you’ve become a better looking version
of every man who’s ever been happy in solitude
and never blamed for the hearts they’ve broken
a clean slate for you, every bill of rights for you
my dear, beloved friend

with love, with love, with love and no stove
just a white refrigerator that looks a bit like a monolith of coolness
right by the door

thank you for having me
i just have to answer a work thing
and then we can hang
yet by any chance
would you be such a darling
so as to let me have
the undoubtedly clever

São Paulo, 28 de novembro de 2012
para M. Noah
(editada em 6 de junho de 2015)


inside my eyes


the darkness comes in waves and moves in blots
I can only guess what’s lurking on my way down
(my head bloated with warmth and light)


I shut my eyes tighter
I catch a breath
I sense the moving city out the window
at this point I very briefly think of you
but your name becomes music
and music becomes mantra

when I plunge into the pit
and let myself sink slowly
I beg myself to save me
while denying all salvation
I convict myself to drown
swaying weightlessly
among the shadows within


[Há tempos não me nascia um poema já em inglês. 
Quando acontece às vezes traduzo, mas esse gostei assim. 
Tem umas aliterações naso-sibilantes que me atraem.]

professional confessional

Sad Love
i got all that stuff i wish i could tell you
but then i get all stiff and can’t say a word
like that time i wanted to tell you how i faked it for love
but then didn’t want to hurt your pride
and could picture you yelling and then sulking and then calling me a liar

so i don’t tell you all that stuff i wanted to say
and just sit silently over a cup of coffee thinking
about how i wish lovers could say anything
but then i remember that everytime i tried this i failed
and just go back to sipping the coffee, bitter, sugarless

and look up from the cup and you’re there
more beautiful than beauty itself
so i shut up and fake it
and you will never know
that i faked it for love