Amanda e um copo d’água

Não posso esconder tosse ou amor
Que me desatina
Como querem os mais sábios
Sem posse

É tarde quando a encontro
Mas non troppo
Pois crianças não dormem
Emprestam o nome à noite
E meneiam à exaustão

Entre vapores e goles
Fricções e barulhos
Ela me engole
E eu lhe mastigo

Vantagens íntimas
Somos bichos da revolução
Injuriados, subversivos
Do pecado bons amigos

No prestígio há comédia
Uma antologia divina
Na carne fecunda
Na dama que dá sede
Na virtude que abunda

Amante de um momento breve
Nostalgia de um leve instante
Desejo com esmero
Ante a distância que é obstante

Sei mais do que vejo
E peço mais do que posso
Me encanta por ser livre
A dourada amante do ócio

Na cama digo que é dia
No poema juro que é chuva
Falo, lhe encaixo, repito
Por escrito confessa quem ama.

Laissez faire

Today I woke up for finding out the sunrise would be at 7:48am
Isn't that great? Even the dearest lamb got late
And for that I stayed in underwear, dancing alone on the haunted room
Dragging my feet over all the dirt and broken tiles until I got enough
To touch the switch and let the electricity shock me a little
Once that
the world and its mean people
Do not get me impressed anymore.

Mediocrity is the new sexy, baby
Come on
Chasing money to freedom
We all dress to get undressed
Forever expires in 6 months
And society became as liquid
As my Fireball.

Blue agave, premium turf, chardonnay
Cheap moonshine too.

Art can only be conceived by sexual intercourse
Between will and hope
And when they fuck, oh boy I gotta tell ya
Pretty twins are born
And their names are laze and despair.

Ranger label

My truck looks like me
I see those halfway tires and I can see my legs
Broken, hurt, tired columns of bones and muscles that sustains me
But somebody can tell that my truck has more wheels than I have got legs However
Sometimes life puts me on all fours. Degrading, but still rolling.
My truck looks like me
With two doors that open anytime to let people in
Just like my arms were made to hug.
My truck has a broken grill and it has some semblance of my nose. Strong steel, but plastic too. My truck is not the stiffest
Because neither am I
And I guess neither are you.
My truck has only two seats although a third
short timed companion
can fit in.
My truck looks like me with its multiple colors. It is red
But gray, also white with its shades.
My truck needs work and it clearly speaks about me
Whose interior craves cleaning.
Naturally it sounds loud. My truck snores and I rev up.
Muffler? Hustler?
We are both old and it doesn't cost a dime to treat it right.
Oil change and water where it must. Some things work better if wet
And the valves, oh the valves!
like my heart, endless pumping of fluids.
Can you feel it? A robust flow
They come and go
through arteries and tissues.
Machines will fail, exhaust will fart.
And the mind will have issues.
But a pipe ages and when it does it drips.
Steering can get loose. In the morning a kick start.
Ungovernable? We both can act like pricks.
But nothing can stop, not even clutch leaks
A great and solid engine V6.

The claw tearing me up

There are ashes around my bed
and the song playing does not fit
the situation
Am I mad? Am I lazy? Am I a
single powerless piece of human labor exploitation?
Whistle, ladies and gentleman, because I've come
to let you know
what is inside and its
origin from.
A pumping heart means chemistry in action
and that is exactly
what we don't have, baby

Black Mirror

One is anxious and boredom is a
Hungry ghost

For entertainment it offers
For wisdom it has
Short quotes

You may mock just for fun
Once happiness comes
With hard thumbs up
Or double ephemeral taps

Only fans knows the real deal
Which means to be
And noted
And monetized
But never touched

Crypto fucking stockings algorithm monitored cookies!

Pretentious waters
of appearance

Into the madhouse the same jiggle
Of butts
And on the dance floor
shallowness chokes sanity

Is it faking contagious?
Is it foolishness airborne?

When your screen is off
All you see
Is you