Monolithic Charlie Brown is staring at me.
But I have nothing to say.
And someone has erased his mouth.
In his gaze it occurs to me,
gravity has been weighing on my mind.
Freed from it,
the possibilities...
My shadow is not confined by my outline,
for it is not shade, rather
A being of mimicry that hides from the light.
In the sepia city dimness
follows darkness
follows dimness.
In the passing of a minute,
there is no time,
and lasting beyond it...
nothing lasts.
And why does Woodstock always hit his head on everything?
Why doesn't Snoopy just hold his hand,
so he can't fly.
This mass of thoughts has none itself.
An exercise, an exhibition,
in frustration.
The gap between the thinking and the doing grows
with every idea.
And it will never close.
Merely turn a page and hope that someday
it can be reread.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Charlie Brown is staring at Me
PoesiaFragments of things, images and thoughts, flutter to the page.