Man to the Apocryphal Glow from Puya

Man to the Apocryphal Power of Rouge Part I of puya* Ronald Augusto (bio) zum zum zum I drink rum rum rum I score and I praise such ire here in the cane store in the sugar mills I castrate a stalk, one’s nothing * * * the tall black man like a palm tree chipping the scales off a sleep-walker replacing others outside he welcomes my hint of discouragement which is total peacefulness slacks and spare change and also inserted in a newspaper’s fold an avocado twisting in the dark so that its nakedness softens with its bland discharge . . . [End Page 748] . . . the headline I was going to talk about that I immediately caught sight of: therein a certain person who hasn’t even an erection points his eminent self over there towards the row rich in black women his pant zipper unsewn unsheathed: the Bahian water-spirit whores against mistress’ lamp bodies and peeping he remains and then he randomly offers a worthless bill for their trills and undulations planted with the thought of a whiteness of arbors in a flurry of amnesia that enhances this leisurely hour * * * common water through a plastic hose the exhausted mulatto girls (never stenographers) sprinkle the streets so the dust can’t turn flips pre-colored paperboard feet age the damp sod [End Page 749] * * * fleshed again ashen elbows shinbones suddenly waylaid by the whitewasher what’s-his-name (shifting sand dunes silent films) the black suspect is here my crushed leg that resembles a crushed red sail my insignificant leg of a cripple gnashed in the cane, caned for taking off clothing and for losing the mulatto broth known as village where the sugar grows to the dense hundreds a hundred frowns advance they pause in their routes and they stop I sell the business for an incalculable amount for the cost of a piss a few will relive the afternoon of the ruined one the one degraded by the voice by the knee by the verse and conversations the evening the coiling the quest Homem Ao Rubro ApÓcrifo Ronald Augusto (bio) Translated by Reetika Vazirani zum zum zum golo logo rum rum rum golo louvo cá na eira larga ira cape um um é pouco o preto de porte palmarino rapando as escamas dum sonâmbulo outdoor repondo outras cumprimenta meu início de desencorajamento que é todo quietude atavio e proveito e também abacate enfiado num capuz de jornal torcendo no escuro pra que sua nudez amoleça com insípido disparo o slogan que ia dar isso logo avistei nisso um tal qualquer que nem taludo é põe-se apontado pra ala rica em pretas desembainhada em abanos das baianas ondinas rameiras contra fifós donas e espreitando fica e depois confere uma nota à toa aos seus giros e gorjeitos lavrados [End Page 920] com tento numa alvura de arvoredo numa avidez de olvido que encarece o recreio água de praxe enfileirada em mangueira de plástico as cabrochas extenuadas nunca estenógrafas agora águam as calçadas privando a poeira de romper em cabriolas pés de papelão pretinto envelhecendo a água cinzentos cotovelos canelas num encarne atocaiado de supetão por fulanos caiados (muda de duna película calada) o suspeito negro aqui minha perna espremida que se assemelha a uma vela vermelha espremida minha perna ninharia cotó de cana fixado pra perder a capa e o caldo mulato aka vilacanavial aos centos espessos cenhos avançam pousam seus passes e param vendo o caso por um prazo que não vence ao de uma mijada uns quantos reprisarão a tarde do arruinado do corrido pelo som pelo nó através do verso em conservagões a véspera o serpenteio a cata Reprinted by permission of the author. Ronald Augusto: Uma Entrevista Ronald Augusto Ronald Augusto: autor de Disco e Puya, coleções de poesia. Mora em Porto Alegre, Rio Grande do Sul. Ronald Augusto Ronald Augusto is author of Disco and Puya, volumes of poems. He lives in Porto Alegre, Rio Grande do Sul. Footnotes * Translator’s Note: The poems of Ronald Augusto are said to be “difficult.” Sometimes the vocabulary is

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