domingo, 8 de junho de 2008

beat

I spend my hard days and nights
sitting on a stiff wooden stool that
wobbles every time I turn to see
if it's you this time through the door
my stomach is already screaming
because of all that coffee
mesmo assim eu disse mais um expresso
and my ass is already at home
on that stiff wooden stool that wobbles
and no it's not you
but I'm already out in the smoke and the honks and the concrete and the lights
and I think I hate New York
as I light a cigarette and
wham somebody's died
my heart starts beating off beat and
I remember the back of your neck
I go back inside and sit on that stool
because maybe it's you this time through the door

3 comentários:

Alice Sant'Anna disse...

uau, lindo. e que lindo o seu poema-comentário. quero postar logo pra ver se ganho mais um!

beijobel!

gduvivier disse...

coincidência boa! aliás vc gostou do blueberry? achei terrível.

1 disse...

Gostei dessas inserções de português, ficou inusitado!
Beijos.