Those Narrow Streets
(Ricardo Hoffmann)

I left the rotten timberwork of
my home
To scream out in the streets
That the moon were a
morbid creature
Which is filled with atrocity
Seemingly above in its holiness
Almost losing this by a stumble
Speared by that thorn of a
youthful chin
Which saw the holiness’ simile

For in this night the rain’s
painful lashes
Drove me through those crooked

And narrow streets, where the
son bathed
The childhood’s beast in
its cursed blood
Beneath that carvin’ knife,
the thorn of
A youthful chin in his eyes
And the beast burnt in its
infernal cage
Whilst attaining the eternity’s curse

For behind a wrought-iron gate
made of purity
I roamed down on a
peculiar staircase
Under those tangible and suckin’
house’s words
I found a door and another one
and met a open
By darkness blackened, vaulted
cellar roof
The atmosphere was frozen and
I was half dead
While I felt a movement inside
the darken roof
Which revealed an old and
hungry, by death catched
Women’s face, who tried to steal
Flies strewn, rotten meat
Our fixed eyes screamed hate
and fear
As though the Lord left nothing
and no-one behind
But I said: “Gee, it’s all right
You have to go.
I’ve got new
And fresh meat
To bring in.”

The morning received me
drunken and unreal
And I knew
That the moon was a morbid creature
Which is filled with atrocity
Seemingly above in its holiness
Almost losing this by a stumble
And this moon had been
speared by
The thorn of a youthful chin
Which saw the holiness’ loveliest simile

Through narrow streets
She followed me
Followed me into the dark
Followed me to my secret place
While the poison went deep into my mind
And the loveliest poison
Came to mind