Another Canvas / new poems 2011

Of Goya, Of Borges, Of Pixinguinha

through these blinds
a painted snake of light, in sections,
crawls across a shadow wall with the sun
to escape the cold of this white hot winter -
the same sun bathing colonial window boxes
across the tropics, overhead in a southern hemisphere's summer,
and I am bitten by this daydream - of Goya, of Borges, of Pixinguinha -
venom sweating sand, warm rain and cigar smoke into this February room