...M'ESPANTO ÀS VEZES , OUTRAS M'AVERGONHO ...
(Sá de Miranda)
EARLY MORNING BLOGS1769 - From The Frontier Of Writing The tightness and the nilness round that spacewhen the car stops in the road, the troops inspectits make and number and, as one bends his facetowards your window, you catch sight of moreon a hill beyond, eyeing with intentdown cradled guns that hold you under coverand everything is pure interrogationuntil a rifle motions and you movewith guarded unconcerned acceleration—a little emptier, a little spentas always by that quiver in the self,subjugated, yes, and obedient.So you drive on to the frontier of writingwhere it happens again. The guns on tripods;the sergeant with his on-off mike repeatingdata about you, waiting for the squawkof clearance; the marksman training downout of the sun upon you like a hawk.And suddenly you're through, arraigned yet freed,as if you'd passed from behind a waterfallon the black current of a tarmac roadpast armor-plated vehicles, out betweenthe posted soldiers flowing and recedinglike tree shadows into the polished windscreen.
© José Pacheco Pereira