artichoke hearts canned in oil
chewed after dinner on the table
the used plates, cutlery, bowels

micro, cross-eyed vultures
flying low
hone their claws on the sharpener

ripping off skin fat
they toss it in the ditch behind my house
disfigure the flesh

explosions scrap the iron
that corroded works as a muzzle
the city sleeps as if it had never
dawned

late at night
an infested carpet is laid down

a smell of garlic on the soles of the feet
walking over the streets
old people don’t wear shoes

god doesn’t walk among my folk
he flies over in helicopters
skyscratches
where he sleeps on a feather mattress

Nathalia Pereira Jardim (b. 1993) is a literary translator and writer. Her credentials include an MA in Portuguese-English (to be completed in 2024) and previous studies in screenwriting at the Film and TV School of the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague (FAMU). Her work can be found in World Literature Today, Stephen Spender Trust, as well as in Brazilian publications. She lives in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

 

corações de alcachofra em conserva de óleo
mastigados depois do jantar sobre a mesa
os pratos, os talheres, os corpos usados

abutres miúdos e vesgos
rasantes
afiam suas unhas no amolador

arrancam as peles gorduras
jogam na vala atrás de minha casa
desfiguram a carne

explosões sucateiam o ferro
que corroído serve de mordaça
a cidade dorme como se nunca houvesse
amanhecido

na madrugada
forra-se um tapete infestado

cheiro de alho na sola dos pés
caminhando sobre as ruas
velhos não usam sapatos

deus não anda entre os meus
sobrevoa em helicópteros
arranha-céus
onde dorme em colchão de penas