Sonhar com Sangue

I

Blood, blood, innumerable arms

All of the people yielding

at once to the force

of these feral stones

Brain? a blowfish, a squash, but knotted with blood

that threads round after beating is done

Not the bloody days of books and years

I fascinate the man on the street, 'Of course,' he says

'You curved your body to be played and trounced'

II

Once in awhile we'll idealize

It is what it is, we don't get it yet

We reshape to fit

an identity cast in agony

III

At the bargaining table

Be artless and demure

Let your arms quake 

If we don't get what I want

IV

Blood, blood, innumerate terms

The views of another

found lifeless out of many

one brain chasing itself through open doors and windows

just as we were about to close them

The paroxysm had begun. 'Give in, give in.'

'We're doing this for you' I said with one voice

'I can't bear disobedience'

His face black as Macbeth.