Nox occupat Una
The red lollipop fell, and crack’d to many shatterings; in Noon’s likeness. Emilia picked a man from the streets.
They found us full of the Spirit
Passing Avenue Cabral there’s a wood link to a blue church, a Pentecostal church, and she has the shape of a star with ferns on her hand. At Antônio Barreto St. there is or there was a house, white and with blue writing all over it; verses from the Bible, about the start and the end. I looked for it today, but I think they painted over with ugly flowers.
from Jurandir’s “First Morning”
“The bolt into the mombin-tree killed sixteen pigs, inside the house it broke a pillar, and the room where Luciana was cast: now Open with a strike.” “The lightning also o pens me a way, a path, open not in the streets, the clouds, the river, no, in myself, in this greenish and secret being I am.” And “the glasses shone.”
AYRTON MONTEIRO writes from Pará, Brazil, from the very core of the Amazon rainforests. He’s been published in Azure Bell and will be part of a large Brazilian poetry anthology, which is yet to come.
MAXIMUS 