curtain

the final curtain on one of the longest running
musicals ever, some people claim to have
seen it over one hundred times.
I saw it on the tv news, that final curtain:
flowers, cheers, tears, a thunderous
accolade.
I have not seen this particular musical
but I know if I had that I wouldn't have

been able to bear it, it would have
sickened me.
trust me on this, the world and its
peoples and its artful entertainment has
done very little for me, only to me.
still, let them enjoy one another, it will
keep them from my door
and for this, my own thunderous
accolade.

in The Olympia Review; 1994

poema encontrado aqui

Mama

here I am
in the ground
my mouth
open
and
I can't even say
mama,

and

the dogs run by and stop and piss

on my stone; I get it all
except the sun
and my suit is looking
bad
and yesterday
the last of my left
arm gone
very little left, all harp-like

without music.

at least a drunk
in bed with a cigarette
might cause 5 fire

engines and
33 men.

I can't
do
any
thing.

but p.s. -- Hector Richmond in the next

tomb thinks only of Mozart and candy
caterpillars.
he is
very bad
company.

poema encontrado na janela

what can we do?

at their best, there is gentleness in Humanity.
some understanding and, at times, acts of
courage
but all in all it is a mass, a glob that doesn't

have too much.
it is like a large animal deep in sleep and
almost nothing can awaken it.
when activated it's best at brutality,
selfishness, unjust judgments, murder.

what can we do with it, this Humanity?

nothing.

avoid the thing as much as possible.

treat it as you would anything poisonous, vicious

and mindless.
but be careful. it has enacted laws to protect
itself from you.
it can kill you without cause.
and to escape it you must be subtle.
few escape.

it's up to you to figure a plan.

I have met nobody who has escaped.

I have met some of the great and

famous but they have not escaped
for they are only great and famous within
Humanity.

I have not escaped
but I have not failed in trying again and
again.

before my death I hope to obtain my
life.

in blank gun silencer – 1994

desenhos e pinturas

Alone with everybody                                                         

the flesh covers the bone

and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls

and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the

one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers

the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill

the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill

the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else
fills.

de Love is a dog from hell (Poems 1974-1977)

Sozinho com toda a gente

a carne cobre o osso
e metem lá dentro um cérebro
e ás vezes uma alma,
e as mulheres partem
a loiça contra as paredes
e os homens bebem
demais
e ninguém encontra
o outro
mas continuam à procura
entrando e saindo

de cama

em cama.
a carne cobre
o osso e
a carne procura
algo mais do que
carne.
não há qualquer
possibilidade:

estamos todos presos
a um estranho destino.
ninguém nunca encontra
o outro.
os esgotos da cidade enchem-se
os ferros-velhos enchem-se
os manicómios enchem-se
os hospitais enchem-se
os cemitérios enchem-se
nada mais
se enche.

Cause and effect

the best often die by their own hand
just to get away,
and those left behind
can never quite understand
why anybody
would ever want to
get away

from
them

Causa e efeito

os melhores geralmente morrem pelas suas próprias mãos,
apenas para escapar,
e os que ficam para trás
nunca conseguem compreender
porque é que alguém
iria querer
escapar
deles

desenhos e pinturas

you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction of distress.
they dress well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy death, usually in their
sleep.

you may not believe
it
but such people do
exist.

but i am not one of
them.
oh no, I am not one of them,
I am not even near
to being
one of
them.
but they
are there

and I am
here.

in The Last Night Of The Earth Poems

uma namorada entrou-me em casa
fez-me a cama
esfregou e encerou o chão da cozinha
lavou as paredes
aspirou
limpou o banheiro
esfregou o chão do quarto
cortou-me as unhas dos pés e
o cabelo.

depois
tudo no mesmo dia
veio o canalizador e consertou as torneiras da cozinha
e do banheiro
e o homem do gás consertou o esquentador
e o homem dos telefones consertou o telefone.
agora sento-me no meio de toda esta perfeição.
é um sossego.
acabei com todas as minhas 3 namoradas.

sentia-me melhor quando tudo estava
desordenado.
precisarei dalguns meses para que tudo volte ao
normal:
nem consigo encontrar uma barata para conviver.

perdi o meu ritmo.
não durmo.
não como.

roubaram-me a minha
imundície.

Tradução: Henrique Manuel Bento Fialho

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
don’t do it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring andpretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in
you.

there is no other way.
and there never was.

de new poems book 1, Virgin Books, 2003

waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed

I am so very sorry for
my wife

she will see this
stiff
white
body
shake it once, then
maybe
again

"Hank!"

Hank won't
answer.

it's not my death that
worries me, it's my wife
left with this
pile of
nothing.

I want to
let her know
though
that all the nights
sleeping
beside her

even the useless
arguments
were things
ever splendid

and the hard
words
I ever feared to
say
can now be
said:

I love
you.

poema encontrado aqui

OH YES

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it´s too late
and there´s nothing worse
than
too late.

OH SIM

há coisas bem piores
do que ser sozinho.
mas às vezes levamos décadas
a percebê-lo.
e ainda mais vezes
demasiado tarde
e não há nada pior
do que
demasiado tarde

tradução: Amélia Pais

A NEW WAR

and to think, after I’m gone,
there will be more days for others, other days,
other nights.
dogs walking, trees shaking in
the wind.

I won´t be leaving much.
something to read, maybe.

a wild onion in the gutted
road.

Paris in the dark.

in "A New War", Black Sparrow Press, 1997

UMA NOVA GUERRA

e pensar que, depois de desaparecer,
haverá mais dias para os outros, outros dias,
outras noites.
cães a passear, árvores oscilando
ao vento.

não deixarei muito.
alguma coisa por ler, talvez.

um rebelde na estrada
devastada.

Paris às escuras.

tradução: Rui Manuel Amaral (com uma ajuda da Tatiana Antunes)
enviado por mail por Amélia Pais