mente insana sincronia

letra redonda cicla

amarga acida cica

tia vizinha mae namorada

corre com a mao no chinelo,

prepara a palmada.

Mas e doce o seu perfume

doce como a laranja e a hortela

e a jabuticaba.

Cuidado, menina,

nessa sinuca tem assombracao.

O jacare vai fugir se voce pisar no feijao.

Refuja-se nesse quarto

ar condicionado, natureza,

corrente na senzala, colchao no chao.

Rosbife assado com linguica,

mae postica.

Linda linda mulher

mae sem barriga

Fada, Tiete, Sereia

bruxa mulher

Cachoeira, Quaresmeira, Ipe

O que sera ja e.

In Memoriam Maria Carmem de Alencar Araripe, 2009.

2 Responses to “Tia”

  1. 1 jh December 22, 2009 at 12:42 am

    Life seems to roll on a bumpy unmaintained dirt road. Just when one decision seems to be freeing and offer independence, it becomes something that is unrewarding and depressing. How is one supposed to know what to do? Life is a mystery, I know, but when there are several people to talk to and no one to understand, how are we expected to make the right decisions? What I need is a person who doesn’t know me or anything about me and listen to my problems and then make an observation. NO, I don’t want a counselor, I’ve had too much physchology to listen to someone who will say, “How does that make you feel?” I already know that, it makes me “feel” like shit.

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