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OH MY BRAZIL SO MAINLY WEIRD
São Paulo is a
long street that
crosses Brazil
with its "trade"
infernal...
Rio is a stage
lit where
the popcorn maker of
corner, it's handle
of samba and the madam
from Barra, she owns
of gafieira in Lapa...
Belo is a farm
modern...but its
horses are mechanics...
There you breathe the air of
in the ancient days...
The Northeast that was once
fiction plays functions, left
to be illusion and mirage
to be a consumption pole...
The north, still lies down
asleep in wonder
of the green... as planes
traffic their saps...and the
Uncle Sam still eludes
the natives...
From the Central Plateau,
or from the green heart
from the homeland will arise a
resounding cry that
will dislodge the Court
castled...
So the South that still
thinks it is Cisplatin
or argentine gaucho
will untie the triple alliance
and it will be truly believed
Brazilian...!
Oh my Brazil...manly...!
Copyright ©
ALKAS POETRY
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