:: Mardoux Mardoux... ::

::25.9.03:: DEDICATED Esse post vai dedicado a quem eu gostaria que soubesse, que todas as coisas podem e devem ser feitas da melhor maneira possível: Meu delicioso Luiz. Farrapo Humano Luiz Melodia Tocando seu corpo Castigo, não vivo contigo Sou sano, sou franco Enquanto não calo não brigo Me amarro, me encarno na sua Mais estou pra estourar, estourar Eu choro tanto escondo e não digo Viro farrapo tento suicídio Com caco de telha, com caco de vidro Só fala na certa repleta de felicidade Me calo ouvindo seu nome Por entre a cidade Não choro, só zango, resisto Fico no lugar, no lugar Eu choro tanto escondo e não digo Viro farrapo tento suicídio Com caco de telha com caco de vidro Com caco de telha com caco de vidro Com caco de telha com caco de vidro Tô muito acabado e tão abatido Minha companheira que venha comigo Mais estou pra me zangar Pra me acabar, pra estourar Pra que que há Eu choro tanto escondo e não digo Viro farrapo tento suicídio Com caco de telha com caco de vidro E da melhor maneira possível Com caco de telha com caco de vidro E da melhor maneira possível :: Marcia Furriel 2:39 a.m. [+] :: ... Comments: Enviar um comentário

[::..perfil..::] "...[R]eturning to the Red Drum for sets, to hear Bird, whom I saw distinctly digging Mardou several times also myself directly into my eye looking to search if I was really the great writer I thought myself to be as if he knew my thoughts and ambitions or remembered me from other night clubs and other coasts, other Chicagos--not a challenging look but the king and founder of the bop generation at least the sound of it in digging his audience digging his eyes, the secret eyes him-watching, as he just pursed his lips and let great lungs and immortal fingers work, his eyes separate and interested and humane, the kindest jazz musician there could be while being and therefore naturally the greatest--watching Mardou and me in the infancy of our love and probably wondering why, or knowing it wouldn't last, or seeing who it was would be hurt, as now, obviously, but not quite yet, it was Mardou whose eyes were shining in my direction, though I could not have known and now do not definitely know--except the one fact, on the way home, the session over the beer in the Mask drunk we went home on the Third Street bus sadly through night and throb knock neons and when I suddenly leaned over her to shout something further (in her secret self as later confessed) her heart leapt to smell the "sweetness of my breath" (quote) and suddenly she almost loved me--" DO LIVRO The Subterraneans [::.. perfil sarcástico..::]