A Brazilian Urban Poem

I go in white on the city’s grey streets,
sniffing for a sweet scent amid the toxicity.
Yet, the stench of the city overcomes my senses,
bringing me ire and nausea,
making me tired of society and humanity;
of the imprisonment of the mind by this cage of flesh;
of the suffering of the living and the happiness of the dead.

I look around me:
concrete giants tower, shadow and amaze.
I see lights and sewers and dirty sidewalks;
the solid rivers cut by steel mammoths;
I see speed speed speed.

Noise,
a roar stretches from earth to heaven,
echoing in celestial magnitude:
an iron dragon that cries desperately,
grasping for height, sky, space.

Sounds, movement, technology and improvements are everywhere.

Suddenly,
a man flies over a car and smashes his body against the ground.

Observers, doctors, bums, a woman that claims to be a wife, cheap lawyers and curious animals,
agglomerate and watch.
Agglomerate in awe.
Agglomerate to witness death.

…

A flower, yesterday, sprouted on a dark corner.
Passers pass aside, dodging any sign of its existence.

…


Further in the jungle: an abandoned lot,
inhabited by animal humans –
human animals –
eating scraps, eating trash.
Cannibals?
A new cult or civilization? A revival of ancient tribes and their customs? Anthropophagi?
No. Just ravenous miserable spitted-on people doing whatever they can to stay alive.

Meanwhile, the anthill proceeds with its daily toil and labor;
Swarm of locusts… parasites.

Disgusted, I flee back home, to my haven.
Looking out the window, I try to see beyond the obstacles:
there are dark clouds populating the sky
and the horizon can no longer be seen.

At ground-level a drunk performs an unusual trick, slips on dog shit, sounds a bacchic yawp, and falls to the floor.

Unconscious.

And I wish I was him.