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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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