alfama

into alleys, into gardens
take me further, find me humming
I'm an octopus cut in six
that is how poetry breaths
I walk these streets
spilling ink on every corner

heading for mountain roads

let there be mountains
nothing that upsets me
crooked cruising
little roads up up up
backdrops, sidedrops
green like lush
down there somewhere
swelling shores
wide awake open skies
let there be
some people but not too many
like no boys pulling my hair
and no vendors selling me stuff
just driving on roads
feeling of a rocking chair
meditative swings
driving up up up
like in lucid dreams
the greenest of lush
maybe somewhere along the road, we stop
a horizon worthy a smoke
maybe a drink
of that bottle of rum
because he also drinks kraken
he bought it in Romania
maybe

what my days look like

if you wonder, my love

what my days look like

let me tell you of the fantasies

that make this place real

you see, I pretend I live here

that is how I leave bed, that's how I get dressed

putting on fresh socks, washing my teeth

I pretend I live here

and has lived here for long

I pretend
that the grandma next door

who fries the codfish

smiles through the open window

knows my name

she's Ana Luísa
and I borrow sugar from her

sometimes, I take out her dog

I pretend

I’m just about to meet someone

that I have a studio space

in the neighbourhood up the hills

that I make enough money

to eat a bowl of caracóis by the miradour at sunset

I pretend

I know the musicians that

play on the corner to Rua Dom Pedro

that they invite me to sing

to live samba nights each Sunday

I pretend I

fix my hair in salons
that it turns copper and gold

that the sun here makes me braver 

that I buy my groceries in Portuguese

and come home 

to my carpet, my little flowers

my curtain, my creaking floor

I unpack and pretend

to stay forever these next days

what else do you wonder

when you wonder, my love?

in between it all

I remember

the way you make

my legs tremble

the way you make
my voice shake

so don't worry

if in the other moments
I pretend I don't know you
that I'm just about to meet you
in this other life

I would invite you over for coffee
sit on my patio
wave to Ana Luísa
knowing she will tell me later
how pretty that boy was

first meeting with Lisboa

first meeting with Lisboa, 09.38 in the morning

I wake up here in this

new place

looking out at the sun

glittering the sea

my first thought

after it gets dark

who will this city be?

will it taste of salt

will it be warm, sweaty

sugar cane, orange moon

will it be hips rolling, tight rhythms, welcome shots

this evening, will it be drinking?

will it offer me drugs
will sheeps pretend to be wolves

where the curving hill meets the ocean
will the evening walk me home when I'm done

or cat call me when I leave

will this city put me to bed safely

or hungrier then before?

will it bring me music
fingers on strings
claps between hands
harmonies in perfect thirds

will it bring me thirsty voices
wet from drinks
or will it bring quiet streets, solitude
my footsteps like little needles

dropped in silence

once the light is out

how much I wonder who you are, Lisboa

that which you become
when nothing is forbidden

that is the city
I am most terrified and most excited
to finally meet

........

the next day, the morning after 

how did it feel, then
wake and stretch and think

I found myself a group (or they found me)

music after midnight

homemade ginjinha

took me to a club of red silk

a former whore house

now DJ:s playing Max Romeo

projected images

of Hedy Lamarr and golden frogs

thought of other women I love

barely dancing

someone told me his story

I told him I have poetry to write

and went home before midnight

memorised the alleys

took the right turns

proud when I made it inside the door

quiet now

except from my head ringing

the room smelled

of sunflowers and smoke

threw my shoes on the ocean floor

fell asleep with my clothes on

one day the moon

one day the moon put on a red dress

and came down to earth

only for a drink, to try forbidden things -

it’s the place to go, she’d heard

but down here things are different

and her light made people blind

traffic crashed, volcanos blew

and peace turned into fights

so then they tried to catch her

tried to strip away her pride

yeah, the people tried to burn her

for the same reason she is still alive

did no one teach them

you can’t take the magic out

of a witch’s spine

’cause if they get too close

she’ll just head up home

and keep shining

from the sky

mokshaking

would I want to wake

from this sleepless dance

that melody which

holds flesh through clothes but

dreams of skin to skin

telling me

kisses are never bad

if they come in tiny revolutions 

the pureness of

dancing like it's war

my rituals, surviving the wilderness

the reason concrete turns into jungles

or bedroom lights into stars and moons

dancing like Kali on the field

so angry and lonely

and full of love

no matter how wrong

would I really

want to wake

from this sleepless dance?

chainrattler

she looks at me, saying

'jealousy is just fear'

we must forget every rule

this world taught us

when trapped in love

my heart turns into a monster

it roars, but only to rattle the chains

break the bars of the cage

okey, so maybe;

love shouldn't be hungry

love shouldn't be hungry

it should be free but

with a good, fucking appetite