Daybreak of loneliness or on a small farm (30/05/1979)

I want the ground

the beated soil

pounded by swallewed vodca

deaf ears of sound

Silence of the night

cold gate

daybreak with whip fashion

comes to solve the thick

calm so bright

The morning brings

poor poetries

and they are so proud

the people who visit us

without truth

and fill us up with longing

those ones who do not

arrive till us

Lord, what can I do?

Hopelessly, I'm listening for

your footsteps

looking for a meaning

I'm able to be seen

on the crossing of the roads

Can't you see me, yet?

Now, I weigh a net.

(Tuesday, june, 05, me and mr Riviti.J, Cásper Líbero, São Paulo, SP)