(A Portuguese version is currently no forninho...)
The
Hidden Costs of Careless Living
People
are like that.
They just
don’t listen
until it’s
too late ,
trusting
in faith or fate,
ignoring
all the signs and the signals -
the summers growing hotter,
the
water drying up in the reservoirs,
a cancer
growing deep in the belly
or the
bowels. In fact, it all starts
early
on, like
filho, leve o guardachuva,
watch
the way you stack those dishes,
“ pode beber mas aí não dirija”
and
goes on, fattened by life’s crescendos
of bad
investments, confusion, or seduction
in a world of catchy phrases and grownups who
could know better, like
“Don’t
vote for that monster!”
or
Put
Down
That
Sometimes
you ignore the same old advice
you’ve
given yourself each morning
at
breakfast: take it easy, girl,
don’t
deposit your trust in just any old fool,
não vá com tanta sede ao pote,
better
stop at the flashing yellow,
open a
window but not the whole
damn door.
It
flies in your face then,
the
time you’ve wasted
driving
30 per hour on that old bumpy road
or speeding
head on down the wrong expressway
and
missing the exit ramp again
and again and again.
But
sometimes you get a second chance.
You
can undo a few nights, go back to the tape,
re-record
your voice. A bad day can turn lucky.
You
might even garner an extra second. Like me,
I
forgot the pen and paper, but can always
stop
to record this poem
at the
next red light