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in sao salvador
Matthew Spillum

Morning is a voyage
between Jardim do Morpheus
and deste Mundo.
Time pools,
like a napping hound’s jowls,
like pushing through
a thick velvet curtain.

It is easy to fall so when you hit
the ground you roll to your feet, blinking
leaving the heat of dreams
for sugary daylight.

The garden of dreams
is never too far away:
follow the sidewalk mosaics,

close your eyes and
trail the smell of coconut milk,

listen to the berimbau
the drumbeats, the songs:

Zoom, zoom, zoom
Capoeira matar um.
Zoom, zoom, zoom,
Capoeira matar um.

It makes me laugh now
here in the world, thinking
of the car commercial jingle
and how they leave off
the killing part. The part
that means something.

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