Days: I lay them on my skin. God (or
something like Him) is certainly
behind this Sunday afternoon (as
summer begins to end in
its immense labyrinths)
we’re looking out for defeats inch
by inch. Sometimes
(more distracted) we are
evenly cracking nuts open (like surgeons of the brain)
untwisting croissants in search of
the infinite. But
do you know when you taste
defeat despite being a winner?
You cannot wholly succeed when
you have time as your enemy.
João Luís Barreto Guimarães is a poet who claims for himself an ethnographer’s image. There is an idea of urbanity in his poetry - both metropolitan and peripheral - and an idea of everyday life - his daily life as a doctor peeks out of each line in the manner of William Carlos Williams. His are ways that inflict on the ‘common places’ a disconcerting lyrical sabotage (which is also ironical) that has no parallel in the most recent Portuguese poetry.'
João Luís Barreto Guimarães is a plastic surgeon and lives in Leça da Palmeira, north of Porto.
Poetry books since 2000:
Lugares Comuns (2000), 3 (Poesia 1987-1994) (2001), Rés-do-Chão (2003), Luz Última (2006), A Parte pelo Todo (2009), Poesia Reunida (2011), Você está aqui (2013), Mediterrâneo (2016)