Pindomonhangaba nightmares

 The omen of the flying shadow crossing full moon
During the day we walked to the first park.
Thirst started to get the better of us
Then up to the bigger flat park on the other side of town
The palmiera saias were dying off
Not a reptile insight
What had they done with my brothers?

Wide avenues that narrowed down toward their awkward endings
like wonka corridors
Big restaurants 
Large signs no meaning
The elbow of a great river
The carcass of a bull washed up on its margins
Vultures are late

The palms are half eaten
Caterpillars are infesting them 
Because lizards dont exist there
Those noble fronds have missing filaments
Even the grafiti seems lopsided
I found myself disoriented in surreal winter heat
Back there lost in Pindo somewhere back in 2024

Brainwash drilling

 Round and round burning the air whizzing
Metal and sharp revolving
Through the wood into the wall
Each word into the ear

Buzzing diving it's sinking and biting as it goes
Smoking and entering
Friction and the dust catches
Flames burst 

The spin of it radiates immortality from outside
From inside compounded death
The message melts ear wax 
it's meaning going deeper 

Returning to the portrait

 There taking advantage of time
Long hair tells a story

Avoid telling, I walk in weird
You have sought protection

Magnificient chimera you share 
I the listener the observer, am strange
You feel like you are selling yourself
Juggling your energetic balls of optimism

Juxtapose of you and your stability
pretending everything is perfect
Sitting before the gauche artist
Who cannot capture your likeness

For there is no sincerity
The world is not a sale
Even as it advertises to yopu
Living is not a recipe

You cannot cook yourself to freedom
You wander behind the white rose doubting
You wander behind the red one flaunting false confidence
I impose on your  views and you blush midfantasy

The portrait in spontaneous combustion
Feel that heat reflecting as the rest of the room catches
See me holding the matches
See me, just a bucket of napalm?

Night's blessing

 She said I may dream of drapes and fictitious creatures
Of curtains that would shut out windows
Invite sleep
Of unicorns that flew far into nightskies lighting them

The color of cream
Cream the pales coffee
The describes the overcast
The tone of my skin come sunless winter

She said I'd dream of drapes
Those and unicorns
headfirst into slumber
The well deep but narrow

Waking in a kind restlessness
Not the state God intended
To start a day
not forecasted

Fire toad

 Peel away the under leaves let the rest grow another two weeks.
stab the earth open it up,
it doesnt bleed.

Hark the dream is coming true!
The fire toad is here.
First it seems a malicious apparition.

It sits as still as the surrounding land.
It dreams awake.
Enchanting the weeds.

It slowly imitates the world outside.
Read it's smile as it camouflages.
Yellow flames written into skin.

It protects the crops.
Wards off the outside black magic.
Something conscious the humidity screams.

I till the space between the plants.
Letting the oxygen in.
Something unseen watches.

Lynching the wicked

 Who is the world's ugly tyrant
The working class nobody
From living for others
None living for themselves

For many the symbol of the oppressor
Many will echo the ideas of a revolutionary world
variations or copies of enpowering slogans
conjuring the illusions that this is a fair world

Ponder your identity anxiously
Have you curated it invain
Like a piece of merchandise in an online shop
You wait to check those evaluations

A toxic world grows around new false narratives
Nestled in their collectives
pointing their finger with a thousand others
Righteous falseness

Preschool adherence

 Fresh morning breathe in the dew eight degrees
Ash tree waits for the sun to come through
My little legs take me to preschool
I lived for the sweet freshness of the air

trade it anytime for the dust of the classroom
And then I became a stupid teacher
But back to being a toddler
Sensing percieving loving the glistening grass

The dew gives me the impression it rained
Mother corrects me
The other kids are all obsessed with the same thing
Couldn't they just cut my head off?

and replace it with one that thought the same as they did
as these other little motherfuckers
All repeating the same catch phrase
So long as you say it, you are okay

And if you dont say it
The fuckwits bully you
Mornings were quick
I found blocks

Another introvert would come over
I'd slowly brainwash him out of the herd
as we built some bullshit we saw on t.v
Then I built things noone had ever seen

They called it strange and stupid
I was too little to defend myself
Age doesnt cure stupidity
Fuckwits love conformity