• Malu Baumgarten

Soap Hill

Vera Ione Molina, translated by Malu Baumgarten



Even with the need to see her

I run away, the drumming of the rain

on my umbrella

making me rush the step.


Was the Soap Hill washed with soap?

I walked on Rua da Praia

to gain balance

and courage


while making plans to find her,

who knows, maybe pretending to look

for someone else


and in the urge of listening to her voice

I was sucked down the 24-Hour Street,

fucked-up me. Under that transparent roof,

the Odeon Bar awaited with its neon signs


At the first sip of beer,

a tap on the window -

I turned and saw her

wet and hesitant

more fucked-up than I.

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