A Day in the Life of Brazil
A Day in the Life of
of meat cutters, mariachis, and mothers
calling their children away from overflowing
fire hydrants -- the water's too cold,
hurts the mothers' skin to see it
on their children. Over the borders,
oil and drugs and revolution float
in the air like the souls of dead dogs.
Up the Amazon, the ghost of
Elizabeth Bishop smells coffee
brewing, tries to recall some Portuguese
but can only come up with someone
else's memory: the South Shore Mall
in
Portuguese women sausaging all size bodies
into new spandex mini dresses.
Elsewhere in
worries that the African immigrants
aren't getting enough to eat, or enough
healthy foods to eat. She kneels before her
imported statue of the Virgin Mary
and whispers, "I taste you every time
it rains, and it is never enough."