THE MAN AND HIS DOG... WHAT AN ARMY.

The Man and his Dog.... What an Army!!
by Caio Fernandes , 2010

night.
narrow streets between avenues
my right fist is holding hard the chain around his neck.
and he is happy for being angry, wouldn't change this for nothing.
i have the control.
i stop on the sidewalk.
make him get calmer, he really doesn't like diferent people.
he gets calmer.
then continuing to walk.
my left is free.

the night is pure
the air is thin
the tempeturature is cold
the step is sure
the breath is deep
the eye is opened
no words here means a long speech of victory.

the man and his dog.... what an army !!!!

tiny coins.

Tiny Coins .
by Caio Fernandes . 2010.


finaly!
the cold breese and silence of the night gets into my house, it is almost 10:00.

fingers tasting colder licks fron the air turning the bones in songs about the South Polo .
uhh... shiver! hahah! so good.

so good.
i don't know if i go to pee or order a pizza.
i feel no remorse for do not going out tonight.
i need silence and solitude.
i
i
i....
this is what "me" needs.
here in my confortable dark cave.

scrating thoughts of unreal possibillitys, all the waves of my chest prepare to dye atoms biting the dreans the cats offer sleeping around.

"Hi! I'd like a vegan pizza. You have my adress already in you system.
Yes, Caio.
no , no change, i am going to pay with tiny coins ( i always smile when i say this )
15 minutes ? ok thank you".
this is what i would say if i ordered... but not , i am going to save my penies today.

now i am going to pee.

i feel as i was looking to an old relative all the time i remember about my coins inside that dark drawer. it is so cozy.
always have the wish that opening it all the tinny shinny coins will explode as an ornamental fountain and spread all the light reflexion all over the house.
but it seems that pennies don't reproduce like that. they should be like rabbits.

walking in my house , up'n'down the stairs.... only the light of the aquariuns up... is when i am invided by green memorys of unknow places i have built into the palate of my eyes....
for so many years i have felt it coming. incresing , improving....
will my feet get ready for this one day?

"oops , pizza has arrived".
is what i would say now if i had ordered.
one more night eating potato, sauerkraut and soy with all those mad spices.
hahah! i am a saint.
apple cinnamon with white tea. YES!!

good things are coming.





.

not tonight, amigo - by Caio Fernandes

not tonight amigo - the curse of the heat by Caio Fernandes 2009 / acrylic on canvas by Caio Fernandes 2007



the skin upon the dark table under the weak light .
so quiet .
involving running blood .
speed of destiny into the veins . burning hot .
.
wings of lost moments breathing vacuos of strange blue dimensions . they're gone .
love drops and vanishs as beautiful landscapes this body never belonged
heat heat heat . be naked is the only experience i can have
.
i sit on the bed . it is a fact . the silence pulsing high temperetures .
i swallow my saliva . it has many sounds .
i spit my last thought . it is blank .
.
there are no galaxies inside my chest anymore .
the heat consumed this for feed the space and air .
who needs space and air ? this is so tridimensional and sufocating .
.
geting up . i walk with no direction . slow ....
to live inside a body is just to be a spot of flesh among heavy atoms .
but under this heat .
to live inside a body is just to be a steaming spot of flesh among sticky atoms with no doors .
arrested into an existence that doesn't allow me to exist .
.
lips don't want to wake up . they rest on my arms . muscles are good pillows .
feets exausted on the floor . ground is such a geografic waist .
no other alternative but to lay down into the shadows of the bed . the warm sheets smashing solitude against my neck .
my cock gets hard exploding . the first sign of real life in me .
- " not tonight amigo . there is nothing for us here " .