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Fragments from the dream life of a young man.
Blog Archive
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2007
(160)
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January
(13)
- I mumble in my sleep, then say, with no emotion, "...
- My boss wants to revise a paper I wrote on Slavic ...
- One dream for Mexicans, one for blacks, and one fo...
- In some sort of Africa, I discover that the pygmy ...
- At the University Club, my father and I are seated...
- At a busy intesection I notice two young men flatt...
- Gathering little shards of glass from the kitchen ...
- In my shorts and boxer briefs at the high school l...
- My Mom drives me down from the hills and through t...
- The bathroom is locked, so I pee in a bottle.
- Preparing for a trip across the ocean, I am told t...
- At the spy compound, I'm trying to find a place to...
- There are two armies working in Iraq: the National...
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January
(13)
2 comments:
No meio da canção desfiar as cordas, puxar as cravelhas de seus nichos, desmontar o cavaco peça por peça. E não parar por aí: soltar então os úmeros de suas juntas, as falanges da mão. Os vinte e sete dedos, carpo e metacarpo. Porém: escolher a noite certa. Tem umas em que a música do cavaco continua, mesmo desfeitos o cavaco, o cavaquista, a canção.
And putting it back together again.
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