Régis Bonvicino, p.5
from ETC.
I
I barely felt the mortar
& its range,
the radar’s blade
& net
make
sound-maps of the spirit
covert helmets of desire
pliability
diameter and aim
on the arc access of dawn
I felt alone
beneath the noise of piano keys
I pointed to the sky
serene light, far away
I only saw
your arms
upon the bedroom wall
lamps at rest
the space
capsules & horizon
sigdasys sucked
decapitated heads
& the extraordinary star
cut into itself with solid color
2
I made to pick the flower
half-wall
arm between the gates
I made for the green
stems
of Orange Cosmos
consolation of the sun or forget-me-not blue
at the fingertips
white narcissus petals
in themselves intact
beyond the fence
a stalk with heavy leaves
strikes a worthless
constellation, look at
fire talking like a sandhill
maybe it’s a panther
& not only an idea
changing its own shape
& touching its own nucleus
stars are in a landing-pattern
in my eye,
palette, blemish
like for excess stab-wounds in the body
safety in numbers
3
I tried to follow, steps
voices, in the marble
red, leaves, of maple
in this wall, of The Art…
or in the garden of
Frank Lloyd Wright in Oak
Park, that green, thin pale
marine blue held
the color of the sky,
I tried to understand the sun
yellow leaves
still beamed with sap
on a street
noticed anything the actual color of gold
in contrast
will dry in a while
competing
with autumn, red
like a pocket
sunset
in a steel frame,
before falling,
a red-haired girl
maybe Nolde
Chicago 10/2000
4
I tried to understand the figure
of the yellow horse
in the Museum of Art…
morning, in the Park
(parrot beaks advancing far
beyond the fence, another street,
leaves of blood)
I tried to capture, as much as possible
wolf & squirrel
unique & reciprocal
& almost Buddha-like
snorting horse
a cloud, sight not missing
a beat, floating, gusts of
red, in the sky, petals
of the flamboyant
I tried to understand the light
& its tall horse
the color & its mute horse
in a painting
painted by Nolde
beyond the window
rain or shine
São Paulo, 11/2000
I
I barely felt the mortar
& its range,
the radar’s blade
& net
make
sound-maps of the spirit
covert helmets of desire
pliability
diameter and aim
on the arc access of dawn
I felt alone
beneath the noise of piano keys
I pointed to the sky
serene light, far away
I only saw
your arms
upon the bedroom wall
lamps at rest
the space
capsules & horizon
sigdasys sucked
decapitated heads
& the extraordinary star
cut into itself with solid color
2
I made to pick the flower
half-wall
arm between the gates
I made for the green
stems
of Orange Cosmos
consolation of the sun or forget-me-not blue
at the fingertips
white narcissus petals
in themselves intact
beyond the fence
a stalk with heavy leaves
strikes a worthless
constellation, look at
fire talking like a sandhill
maybe it’s a panther
& not only an idea
changing its own shape
& touching its own nucleus
stars are in a landing-pattern
in my eye,
palette, blemish
like for excess stab-wounds in the body
safety in numbers
3
I tried to follow, steps
voices, in the marble
red, leaves, of maple
in this wall, of The Art…
or in the garden of
Frank Lloyd Wright in Oak
Park, that green, thin pale
marine blue held
the color of the sky,
I tried to understand the sun
yellow leaves
still beamed with sap
on a street
noticed anything the actual color of gold
in contrast
will dry in a while
competing
with autumn, red
like a pocket
sunset
in a steel frame,
before falling,
a red-haired girl
maybe Nolde
Chicago 10/2000
4
I tried to understand the figure
of the yellow horse
in the Museum of Art…
morning, in the Park
(parrot beaks advancing far
beyond the fence, another street,
leaves of blood)
I tried to capture, as much as possible
wolf & squirrel
unique & reciprocal
& almost Buddha-like
snorting horse
a cloud, sight not missing
a beat, floating, gusts of
red, in the sky, petals
of the flamboyant
I tried to understand the light
& its tall horse
the color & its mute horse
in a painting
painted by Nolde
beyond the window
rain or shine
São Paulo, 11/2000