a blog with cultural bulimia.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

You're walking, José.

José, but to where?

the poetry of Carlos Drummond de Andrade including José

You don't have a woman,
You have no one to talk to,
You don't get affection
You can't drink any more.
You can't smoke any more.
You can't even spit.
The night's turned cold,
You didn't see daylight,
Or the next streetcar,
Or laughter.
You didn't see utopia,
And everything's over,
Everything's gone away,
Everything's silent,
And now, José?
Alone in the dark
Just a beast in the woods
With no theology
With no blank wall
To shelter yourself
With no black horse
To flee at a gallop,
You're walking, José,
José, but to where?