Your head a pendulum at rest
is frozen on my chest like Mona Lisa’s,
your body that I’d earlier undressed
like the adulteress woman saved by Jesus,
...
Controlled impetuosity
is less effective than
the vibrant virtuosity
that proves a man’s a man.
...
In the Testament of 1802,
written in despair, Heiligenstadt,
Beethoven complained he couldn’t do
felo da se before the final cut
...
Women who are well-behaved
do not make history, and they
take second place to the depraved,
whom history gives right of way,
...
One by one the guests arrive,
but all leave in a swarm,
each one’s only half alive
and needs the rest to keep him warm.
...
With my imperfect mind I touch
her body, and she’s satisfied
because I love her very much,
and never ever tried to hide
...
Food on the tables,
bread, beer and wine,
still living fables,
silently sign
...
While epiphanies reveal the whatness
of our being in the spirit pot,
what we hide conceals the notness
of the knots we tie becoming not
...
Living perilously on a fault
that straddled disbelief and stranded faith,
he felt a tremor like a quake exalt
his reason, as if wrestling with a wraith.
...