Cold water etiquette

« Careful, watch your step! Follow
The etiquette! She’s not known
For her mercy, she won’t pardon
Early mistakes. First,
Tiptoe around, on the wet sand
So smooth it fools your kin
Into weakness. Immerse
Your toe, the big one
From the foot you don’t like. If the nail
Blackens, get out; if it becomes
Crystalline like her, you’ve been chosen
And your swimming will be easy.
Careful, watch your step. Walk slowly, and feel
Her icy hand gripping your neck, all the way up
From your ankles. Your veins
Are blue now. She empties
Your eyeballs. No, don’t bring
Any mirror: she doesn’t like
Rivals. After this you’re on your own;
Swim or float, but
Careful, watch your step! »

Say the drowned; their bleached bones
Move with algae, their missing limbs
Remembering the days
They entered water, carefully
Watching their steps.


I am a body…

I am a body after all
Says the jester to the court
Nobody reads without their hands open
Pressing their palms against the page

Nights are clear. The moon
Says it back. I am a body,
After all.

Going hungry

hungry summer claws my stomach
and smells of absent meals


is hunger an even verb
or did I make it up


don’t let me sleep, no
don’t let me sleep


dogs of hunger wait for my call
cats of hunger roll over expose their belliness
bugs of hunger leave trails of dirt leaving the place


I wait alone with my hunger
I’ll wrinkle before my time


hunger is after all a decent fellow
companion of golden hours
fasting does grow the days slower


it took my hand
left it trembling


(let it rumble
like the wrath of an inner god)


hunger is male-voiced
not very friendly
tiny tiny
while the streets are ablaze
I hunger


I do nothing but hunger I am
a great citizen of this town
I do not ask I do not take
I stand at my place perfecting
my smile of unused teeth


oh, so white is the sky
so empty the pantry
so full of himself is hunger


full enough for two, definitely
enough for me
enough of me



Cryptid – short story

You’ve probably met someone who claimed they saw the winter beast. Usually, as they were hunting in February. “White snout, white fur, and blue feathers on the back. Yep, that was it.” But the beast vanished before they could shoot it. It didn’t like to be seen. Truth is, they haven’t seen the winter beast.

Yes, for sure, the beast knows how to be discreet. It lives from snow. Snow, its food, its home, its everything. It climbs the trees to remove little birds from their nests, but doesn’t eat them. It makes them beds, tucks them in, and smiles as they fall asleep in the great whiteness.

Nobody has seen for sure the winter beast. It licks the trees, claws them, until their sap comes out. It licks the sap. It shines on its snout, on its teeth. The beast has the most marvelous teeth – harder than diamond and equally clear. An assembly of stalactites in the pink forest of gums. Squirrels are its best friends. They will show it where they hid their nuts and, by digging a hole nearby, the beast will make the nuts bigger. Sometimes, it will even make a new tree grow.

The winter beast doesn’t sleep. Its purple eyes are always open.

But winter gets scarce in our country. Summer crawls all the way through fall; spring wakes up before its time. There is no snow in December anymore. The winter beast has become a legend. And frost comes up, creeping at our windows, and the beast is lost. Forests are getting smaller. Cities are growing bigger. The winter beast, still, licks trees and tucks birds to bed, but something has changed. It sees more and more men in the forest, wearing bright yellow jackets. Winter gets scarce. And nobody talks about the beast anymore.

The winter beast disappeared in mid-July, near a lake. Some blue feathers were found floating around. Scientists marveled at their find; it didn’t look like any bird’s feathers they had ever studied. The feathers were sent, with utmost care, to the natural history museum in the capital city. Hypothesizes were made; but nobody thought about the winter beast.

Only the squirrels, with their small hidden nuts, miss it.