Orchids and iguanas,
Sun, stones, sand and water,
Bread, eggs, skin and sperm –
let my soul
be in the waves forever,
let eternity start.
I’ll be a good boy, Shango –
I’ll do my best
To become your favourite son;
But I want Iemanja
To stay just my dear sister –
Just a sister, oh my sweet cousin!
I’m not ready quite yet
To sleep in your jade embrace.
I still want the Earth
To tell me so much.
Under the constellations,
Over the sea
I run my marvellous railways,
I’m sending my Zion trains
towards the North,
where my girl lives.
You know, she lives on campus –
In the cold pearly morning
She goes barefoot through the yard
To feed the swans in the river,
She’s as pure as an ice cube with lime.
Under a huge chestnut tree
She sits with a cigarette,
Wishes and waits,
Whispering a prayer.
Does she ask the same thing
That I’m asking now?
For the feeling of grit
On the skin
When I lay on the beach
After surfing,
Staring at a Chilean sky?
The other day in the bushes
I found three little puppies –
I never did see their mother;
she must be hanging around
chasing the food for herself
or the father for her new babies –
she seems to be much too worried...
and I just want to stay here –
find mussels, make feasts
for good spirits
and roll the joints for myself;
on the surf-board I write
my scripture:
‘Let the wave carry me
To the West or North,
Let me hear the wind’s
Laughter and moan,
But God save me
From driving a Ford
For which I’ve just finished
Paying off the loan!’