Fernando Pessoa

Also known as Alberto Caeiro, Ricardo Reis, Álvaro de Campos, Bernardo Soares, António Mora, the Baron of Teive, Thomas Crosse, Coelho Pacheco, Maria José, etc.

Born in Lisbon to sickly ancestors, Pessoa¹ jumped early from continent
to continent
swinging his hips wide, scrawling his life and their lives down
and away into a trunk that wouldn't be open until
his own attempts to raise Cain, full of virulent drink
and even more virulent worry, made him and his seventy-three tongues
fall silent.

He and they were one in the same, both too far ahead
and
lacking in enough hands to write with.

Can you imagine keeping track of all those lives,
all those wishes
all those demands
all those
thoughts
prayers
feelings
memories
stories
words
letters
sounds.
Who would win out in the battle of humor?

they
all kept talking
even if he wasn't even heard during his own being.
Even when his corpse was dormant, they shouted from the
trunk where he tucked them in each night.
Whispering Portuguese lullabies,
sleep baby
at grandpa's house
grandpa doesn't have a mattress
the baby sleeps on the ground.²

1. Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935) was a Portuguese poet and writer who used numerous yet incredibly detailed heteronyms. Most of his work is still unpublished due to his nearly illegible handwriting.
2. A Portuguese lullaby

I stole a pistachio once when I was seven years old.
Three months later, the summer of 1995 boiled over 600 people alive. I blamed it on myself.
Nana always said I aged quick, like whiskey.
Every night I would pray that my house wouldn't burn down. My routine was flawless.
I never look both ways, a habit of all these one way streets.
Listen, I come off as abrasive. I grew up admiring the Daleys.
You really should floss more. It feels great to look down and see whats left at the end of the day.
If I could afford it, I'd kill the days by baking.
Missouri never took to me but I still remember the sky after getting lost in a state park. I could finally understand the appeal of nowhere.
I don't understand aisles, why do we have to be so compact in life?
Kissing takes more effort than sex, all those chemicals get me all turned around - how can I be expected to kiss correctly.
Popular was never a word related to me.
I wish that everything I say could be recorded, available for playback whenever I needed. I forget too many birthdays.
I wish I could remember the way he said my name the first time we met.
I was the best narrator in the entire sixth grade.
Life has never made sense to me.