O Poeta Aprendiz

He was a boy
Brave and goat-like
A little child
Healthy and sprouting
He was ten years old
And wings on his feet
With lead and slingshot
He was plic and ploc
His cheerful green gaze
Seemed like lightning
To tangerine
Spinning top or girl
His dark body
Lived running
Jumped in the dark
No matter what wall
Jumped like an angel
Better than a grown man
And took the plunge
Without making noise
In a sock ball
Playing as a right winger or forward
He went overboard
From so much dribbling

He loved to love
He loved Leonor
A girl of color
He loved the maids
Sweeping the stairs
He loved the girls
From the street, the vagabonds
He loved his cousins
With kisses and rhymes
He loved his aunts
With soft skins
He loved the artists
From the movie magazines
He loved the woman
As much as he could
That's why he made
His grain of poetry
And found beautiful
The written word
That's why he suffered
From melancholy
Dreaming the poet
That maybe one day
He could be