<?xml version='1.0' encoding='windows-1252'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794</id><updated>2009-03-11T11:09:30.194-03:00</updated><title type='text'>deux ou trois choses</title><subtitle type='html'>deux ou trois choses que je sais d'elle</subtitle><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2ou3_rss.xml'/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-7936058965120740084</id><published>2009-01-12T15:35:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T15:52:56.706-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>creia: na cidade em que vivo h� lugares sagrados, h� ritos secretos.  na cidade em que vivo vive algu�m com a chave do encanto.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/7936058965120740084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/7936058965120740084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2009/01/creia-na-cidade-em-que-vivo-h-lugares.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-4394113371535358441</id><published>2009-01-05T18:07:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T18:19:28.189-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>benditos os bares que acolhem malditos onde vidas centr�fugas encontram seu centro.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/4394113371535358441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/4394113371535358441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2009/01/benditos-os-bares-que-acolhem-malditos.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-4531174728750470203</id><published>2009-01-02T23:08:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T23:11:19.446-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>h� esquinas com fantasmas de quem nunca morreu assombrando minha sina de viver pela metade.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/4531174728750470203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/4531174728750470203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2009/01/h-esquinas-com-fantasmas-de-quem-nunca.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-7250117723072792546</id><published>2009-01-02T22:51:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T22:54:25.838-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>essas ruas eu bem conhe�o: pra alguns perspectivas, pra outros pontos de fuga.  para mim panos de fundo de aus�ncias em primeiro plano.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/7250117723072792546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/7250117723072792546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2009/01/essas-ruas-eu-bem-conheo-pra-alguns.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-1174648541188498751</id><published>2008-12-02T02:35:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T23:15:04.588-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>eu n�o preciso ver para saber que na madrugada o obelisco impenetr�vel brilha, aceso como essa chama lenta que em torno dela a noite quente gira, tonta, qual mariposa at�nita.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/1174648541188498751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/1174648541188498751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2008/12/eu-nao-preciso-ver-para-saber-que-na.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-4627127914232775193</id><published>2008-11-14T23:18:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T23:27:25.979-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>algu�m me conte um dia desse Jonas no ventre da baleia.   hist�rias de quem foi t�o fundo s� vem � tona superficialmente.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/4627127914232775193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/4627127914232775193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2008/11/algum-me-conte-um-dia-desse-jonas-no.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-3050921137555409773</id><published>2008-11-12T18:33:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T19:05:54.393-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cora��o � trapezista at� ficar na m�o, at� n�o ter m�o que o segure, at� romper-se a corda, at� falhar o olho.  a carreira acaba em salto mortal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gasolina pouca, grana curta, prazo no fim, nada que se compare a pairar no v�cuo entre encontr�-la ou n�o.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/3050921137555409773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/3050921137555409773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2008/11/corao-trapezista-at-ficar-na-mo-at-no.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-3112476270448352514</id><published>2008-11-07T21:34:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T21:50:57.985-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>numa hist�ria estranha dos meus livros de inf�ncia um mendigo vivia de sopa de pedra.  hist�ria estranha onde um mendigo mente.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o mendicante mentiroso apareceria na tua porta e pediria licen�a para cozinhar sua pedra.   n�o pediria nada, s� fogo, �gua e panela.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como negar?  e se ele dissesse que com um pouco de legumes a sopa ficaria ainda melhor, como negar?  e se ele sugerisse que sal seria um bom complemento, como negar?  um naco de carne seria o toque final.  ao fim, uma sopa de pedra rica e perfumada.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quem conta para crian�as hist�rias em que mendigos mentem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu n�o minto.   minhas hist�rias t�m sal, tem carne, t�m pele, mas se elas t�m algum gosto s�o das pedras indigestas que carrego comigo, pedras colhidas na selva de pedras, pedras que eu, lapidar, mantenho brutas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu n�o minto.  trago as pedras na ponta da l�ngua.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/3112476270448352514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/3112476270448352514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2008/11/numa-histria-estranha-dos-meus-livros.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-1548586232327454174</id><published>2007-09-20T18:16:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T18:20:28.227-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;da janela do t&amp;#xE1;xi nas avenidas vazias esta cidade parece l&amp;#xF3;gica, parece l&amp;#xED;mpida. na noite profunda fica t&amp;#xE3;o claro: a soma de todos os sil&amp;#xEA;ncios, subtra&amp;#xED;dos mil ru&amp;#xED;dos, &amp;#xE9; um murm&amp;#xFA;rio el&amp;#xE9;trico, nota de fundo dessa partitura insana.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#xE9; quando tudo se cala que escuto direito os meus desertos.&lt;/p&gt; </content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/1548586232327454174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/1548586232327454174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2007/09/marginal.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-1170220195486002165</id><published>2007-06-28T20:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T00:16:19.099-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>caiu chuva, cai a noite, saio a p�. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;carros passam, n�o t�m pressa, e eu me embebo embevecido no som molhado de pneus no asfalto, dos motores macios e seus �leos e a�o, e sorrio enternecido com os murm�rios maquinais da rua escura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amar � isso, saborear as entrelinhas da respira��o tranq�ila.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/1170220195486002165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/1170220195486002165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2007/06/caiu-chuva-cai-noite-saio-p.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-5148560743440643839</id><published>2007-06-06T22:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T23:24:29.404-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a cidade � grande quando se est� s�, essa noite � imensa porque tanto faz.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mil ru�dos por todos os lados v�m de vidas t�o longe que nem me imaginam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h� lembran�as, muitas.  metade aumenta o sil�ncio, as outras nem fazem eco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o sono estanque essa noite, o sonho a condene � extin��o sem causar esp�cie.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/5148560743440643839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/5148560743440643839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2007/06/cidade-grande-quando-se-est-s-essa.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-5438627927582305016</id><published>2007-05-08T23:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T00:30:26.956-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>meu refr�o s�o essas ruas, as esquinas, versos que se repetem dessa m�sica que n�o deslancha, mandinga que eu recito para evocar um dia a magia que faz asfalto virar pele, far�is olharem fundo, motores solu�arem s�fregos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eu bato sempre nas mesmas teclas e o que me brotam s�o letras, crescem linhas, nada que se pare�a com o calor sem palavras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;l� fora, l� longe, ela arde e eu sei.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/5438627927582305016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/5438627927582305016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2007/05/meu-refro-so-essas-ruas-as-esquinas.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-116620870222553367</id><published>2006-12-15T16:40:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T16:51:42.233-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sol por aqui dribla nuvens, se esgueira entre os pr�dios, quica em vidra�as para te acertar em cheio com beijos-surpresa na face, no peito, nos olhos at�nitos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na primavera que essa mo�a me traz meus dias cinzentos tem pancadas de luz no decorrer do per�odo.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/116620870222553367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/116620870222553367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/12/sol-por-aqui-dribla-nuvens-se-esgueira.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-116588777016696723</id><published>2006-12-11T22:48:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T23:42:50.186-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>rodar a esmo � noite pelas ruas bonitas, guiar invis�vel por entre brilhos e luzes desmantela a cada esquina a fic��o barata criada em balc�o de bar.  &lt;br /&gt;assim que nada mais faz grande sentido &lt;em&gt;credo quid absurdum&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;quod eram demonstratum&lt;/em&gt;.  santo rem�dio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mo�a, eu me retrato: releve o latim que eu gastei para esconder num mal retrato que no fundo eu falo grego.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/116588777016696723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/116588777016696723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/12/rodar-esmo-noite-pelas-ruas-bonitas.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-116560180238188452</id><published>2006-12-08T15:58:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T02:45:57.268-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>o que as ruas ecoam n�o diz muito, fachadas s� propagam buzinas e motores, trov�es e tiros secos, e aquilo que o peito grita morre entre quatro paredes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;em letras mudas componho acordes que o vento espalha, bits e bites rugindo de fome por fomes iguais.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/116560180238188452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/116560180238188452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/12/o-que-as-ruas-ecoam-no-dizem-muito.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115824289996432963</id><published>2006-09-14T10:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T11:11:13.746-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>mergulho meus dedos no fluxo claro de eletricidade viva que ilumina sorrisos, acende os olhos e se infiltra na carne, na pele, narinas e l�ngua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nasci a�reo, minhas ra�zes sentem o solo por rel�mpagos e raios.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115824289996432963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115824289996432963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/09/mergulho-meus-dedos-no-fluxo-claro-de.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115806898954477121</id><published>2006-09-12T10:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T10:53:47.893-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>as palavras que te exprimam se escondem pelo mundo em sinos sagrados de bronze, no sil�ncio que precede os fogos de artif�cio, nos passos mudos de quem dan�a em transe.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as palavras que te expressam lambuzam a l�ngua com mel e inundam os ouvidos de mar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as palavras que eu espremo dessas teclas pequeninas cobrem teu dia de p�talas e espalham o perfume desse incenso que arde intenso na ponta dos meus dedos fortes.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115806898954477121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115806898954477121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/09/as-palavras-que-te-exprimam-se-escondem.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115800537631896599</id><published>2006-09-11T16:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T17:29:18.223-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>voltando pelas ruas noite adentro me acompanha lado a lado a lua clara e veloz entre pr�dios e fachadas e muros e cartazes e ela surge olhando firme pelas frestas e esquinas, nos sem�foros, nas ladeiras, lua densa, suspensa, lua cujo peso e cujo toque e calor e perfume s�o o centro ensolarado das minhas revolu��es afetivas.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115800537631896599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115800537631896599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/09/voltando-pelas-ruas-noite-adentro-me.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115696044309601272</id><published>2006-08-30T14:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T14:54:03.126-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>e quando eu me dou conta as palavras n�o d�o conta, elas so�obram e flutuam, soltas sobre o mar que inundou as entrelinhas e trouxe ondas e espuma onde risos b�iam leves, aliviados porque a terra enfim sumiu da vista.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115696044309601272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115696044309601272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/08/e-quando-eu-me-dou-conta-as-palavras-no.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115647606342876010</id><published>2006-08-25T00:15:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T00:21:03.430-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tire-me da boca o que me engana a fome, leve os espelhos que eu engano t�o bem. Que a sede do que me � seiva me ponha � altura do que ainda n�o sou.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115647606342876010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115647606342876010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/08/tire-me-da-boca-o-que-me-engana-fome.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115621164788926066</id><published>2006-08-21T22:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T22:54:07.896-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eis de volta meus mortos, minhas mortes, eis de volta a lembran�a viva de que sim, n�o me lembro mais, sim eu esqueci, e daquilo que marcou minha pele e matou meu tato sobrou pouco, farrapos, detalhes que teimaram em n�o desbotar e insistem em ter luz, gume, cheiro denso de caf�, talvez chocolate, qui�� canela, mem�rias intensas mas desnorteadas, fantasmas sem alma de um corpo que evaporou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela me traz de volta, n�o sei como, o paladar complexo do que n�o tem volta.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115621164788926066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115621164788926066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/08/eis-de-volta-meus-mortos-minhas-mortes.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-115596100738387098</id><published>2006-08-19T01:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T01:16:47.393-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>espelho, espelho meu, jogue-me na cara esse retrato antes que eu me disfarce em cacos, enquadre-me ligeiro sen�o viro fuma�a, mantenha-me � dist�ncia antes que meu f�lego te embace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;respeit�vel p�blico, que meus truques falhem todos e eu desista enfim de me serrar em dois.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115596100738387098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/115596100738387098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/08/espelho-espelho-meu-jogue-me-na-cara.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-114902772541472360</id><published>2006-05-30T18:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T19:22:05.463-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>se essa curva se essa rua fosse minha, eu trocava eu mudava de lugar, s� pra ver, s� pra ler essa cidade como algu�m que acaba de chegar.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/114902772541472360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/114902772541472360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/05/se-essa-curva-se-essa-rua-fosse-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-114867111250913539</id><published>2006-05-26T15:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T16:18:32.556-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lua filha da puta, lua linda t�o rara que n�o d� as caras quando eu mais preciso, quando as mar�s s�o baixas e nem meus lobos uivam mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sob o c�u cortado em linhas duras sou sat�lite de buracos negros.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/114867111250913539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/114867111250913539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/05/lua-filha-da-puta-lua-linda-to-rara-que.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2995794.post-114314652988766540</id><published>2006-03-23T17:30:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T20:02:23.550-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>agora que tanto faz&lt;br /&gt;um dia voc� me conta&lt;br /&gt;que frutos eu te semeio&lt;br /&gt;em que pontos eu te toco&lt;br /&gt;que bons ventos eu trago&lt;br /&gt;um dia voce me conta&lt;br /&gt;no tempo em que eu n�o havia&lt;br /&gt;o quanto eu te fazia falta.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/114314652988766540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2995794/posts/default/114314652988766540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.usina.com/2ou3/2006/03/palco-duro-dos-meus-dias-agora-que.html' title=''/><author><name>rene</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16796072209493887422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry></feed>