Eu sou um optimista: o meu index está sempre semi-imenso

The hand burns resinous in the evening sky
Which is a lake of roses, perfumes, idylls
Breathed from the wastes of the Tartarean heart.
The skull gathers darkness, like an inept mountain
That broods on its aeons of self-injury.
The spine, barbed and venomous, pierces
The one unmodulated cumulus of cloud
And brings the gush of evanescent waters.
The lungs are Ra’s divine aquaria
Where the striped fish move at will
Towards a purpose darker than a dawn.
The body’s a hillside, darling, moist
With bitter dews of regret.
The genitals (o lures of starveling faiths!)
Make an immense index to my cold remorse.

(primeira estrofe do poema «Egyptian Register», de "Ern Malley")